Third Degree

by J. D. Dudycha

  “Keep your eyes open. If you see the van again, don’t approach it, just stay in sight. Let them follow you as you take them on a stroll. If they follow you after multiple turns, you know it’s something to be suspicious about. But again, don’t let them know you’re onto them. It may be your only chance to bait them into taking you.” Then Collar fell silent.

  Niki sensed she was hesitating. “You there?”

  “I am. There’s something . . . something I need to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Local authorities found one of the missing girls.”

  “What? Collar, no, I’m—” Niki couldn’t discern if it was her niece. Maybe that’s why she was annoyed. “Was it . . . ?”

  “No. Not Ashley.”

  “Oh, thank God. Is the missing girl . . . alive?”

  The momentary pause told the answer.

  “Where did they find her?” Niki said.

  “Outside of Boston.”

  “Boston? How the hell did she end up in Boston? Was she from there?”

  “The FBI is trying to figure that out as we speak, but that’s not the worst of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this poor girl was beaten to death. Blunt trauma to the back of the head, but that was after . . .”

  “After what?”

  “After she was taken advantage of in the worst possible way.”

  Niki’s mouth fell open. This man, or collection of men, were the scum of the earth. “Wait,” Niki started, “that doesn’t add up. That isn’t normal for an organization involved in sex trafficking, is it?” Niki gave her best guess here. “Wouldn’t they keep these girls? Sell their bodies to others for their own personal agenda and gain?”

  “The short answer is yes.”

  “Then what? This isn’t an organization at all? Maybe a serial killer?”

  Collar fell silent again for a moment, then explained, “We don’t know specifics, but I can’t help but think . . .”

  Your niece. It was only a matter of time before she could become the next victim. “I’m not going to let that happen, I promise.” Niki had said the words, but she had no way of keeping her promise. How could she?

  “Niki, be careful. We have no idea what you’re up against. And if you’re taken, I don’t know what I will be able to do to protect you.”

  “You know I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh, I do, no question, but there’s more.”

  “More?”

  “They found traces of Rohypnol in the girl’s system. If you’re caught, do not let them give you anything. Because this drug will dull your senses as well as your abilities. You hear me?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Then check in with me again tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good, then I’m out.”

  “Collar, one more thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “Wish me luck.”

  “For?”

  “My first race. Apparently, I’m going up against the best on the team in the two-hundred meter.”

  “You don’t need luck, Niki.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got it in the bag.”

  “But she’s an all-American.”

  “So?”

  “What do you mean, so?”

  “She’s weak. She hasn’t accomplished nearly the things you have. You have your training, your brain, as well as your athletic ability. Use all of them, and I promise you, you’ll come out on top.”

  Niki didn’t know what to think of her comments. How could she use anything but her athletic ability in a such a short race?

  “Thanks for believing in me.”

  “I’ve always believed in you, Niki. Now go out there and kick her ass. And don’t let me down. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Niki hung up and once again glanced at her watch: 4:23 p.m. She only had thirty-seven minutes to come up with a strategy on how to beat someone who was far more talented than she was.

  9

  INSIDE THE FIELD HOUSE, multiple athletes were already warming up. Some were stretching, some jogging, and one stood alone in the center of the track, Poppy. She was focused. Focused on her breathing. She breathed in, then out, her chest rising and falling in dramatic fashion. Niki wondered why she was focusing so hard on her breathing; perhaps it was to calm her nerves.

  Niki then saw Rory standing, stretching his quadriceps when Niki walked over to him. She spoke into his ear, not to startle him but to ask him a question. “What’s she doing?”

  Rory whipped his head around and put his hand to his chest. “Shit, Chase, you scared me.”

  “I have that effect on some people.” Niki nodded in Poppy’s direction. “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s breathing.”

  “Yeah, I got that, but why?”

  “She . . .” He paused.

  “She what?” Niki asked.

  “Sometimes she has trouble holding her breath while she runs, and that causes her to lose a step or two. Sometimes she can be her own worst enemy.”

  Bingo, Niki thought.

  “She’s got all the talent in the world, but . . . like I said, her brain gets in the way,” Rory continued.

  “Sounds as if you’ve got a bit of a crush on her?” Niki teased.

  “Me?” He turned red. “Psh. No chance.”

  “Why’s that?” Niki asked, not that she was interested in Rory herself; she was just digging for information.

  “She’s got some rule against dating.”

  “So, you’ve pursued her then?”

  “No. Not me, but . . . others have tried and failed. Always given them the cold shoulder, or the runaround about her needing to concentrate on school and athletics.”

  “Interesting.”

  Niki started to walk toward her. If she was going to plant a seed of doubt in Poppy’s mind, now was her only chance.

  “Wait,” Rory said.

  Niki whipped back around. “What is it?”

  “You really think you’re going to beat her?”

  “I have no doubt.” Niki grinned and continued toward Poppy.

  Poppy noticed Niki approaching, and instantly spun around, turning her back to Niki. That’s how this is going to go? Okay, I see how it is. But Niki never shied away from confrontation, not with anyone, especially not a spoiled brat like Poppy. Moving in front of Poppy, Niki got nose to nose. At first Niki didn’t say anything, she simply wanted to establish dominance in the conversation. Get in her head. Some would call it gamesmanship.

  Poppy stared at her awkwardly, wondering why Niki was still quiet. “You brush your teeth this morning?” Poppy asked. “I can smell your rank breath from here.”

  Niki had expected her to come with an insult; she figured it would be her nature. “What’s up with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Niki was feeling her out, seeing just how sensitive she was. How much prodding it would take for her to break down. “I mean, the people on this team, they tell me you’re distant. Out for yourself.”

  Worried, Poppy scanned around to witness everyone staring directly at them. Why wouldn’t they be? It looked as if this conversation could come to blows at any moment. It wouldn’t because Niki was in control of it, but if it did, Poppy would be on the opposite end of a beating. No, this wasn’t that.

  “Who said that? Nobody would—”

  Niki cut her off. “Would what? Call you egotistical? Say you were self-serving and only interested in your own personal achievements?”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  Niki was getting under her skin.

  “Look, I call it like I see it. I’ve been reading people my entire life and dealing with people like you for the better part of a decade,” Niki said.

  “You don’t know me at all.” Poppy’s voice cracked. She was breaking.

  “True. I don’t, but I can guess.”

  Poppy looked stunned, wa
iting for Niki to continue.

  “You grew up around here. Maybe some small town, or maybe a suburb of Minneapolis. You dominated in high school. You didn’t have one close race, not in your entire career. You were probably the prom queen or homecoming queen. Dated the best-looking guy in high school, even though you weren’t really interested in him as a person, just what he represented on your arm. You felt needed with him around, but you cut him loose and broke his heart before you two set off for college. Your mom and dad spoiled you. Maybe you were an only child and wanted to stay close to home instead of leaving the state for better offers. You came here to be top dog.”

  By Poppy’s silence in that moment, Niki knew most everything she’d guessed was true. Then Poppy spoke but struggled to get the words out. “I’m . . . an . . . all-Amer—”

  But Niki wouldn’t allow her to say it. “Preseason, huh? You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Poppy scrunched her eyebrows.

  “It means you are supposed to be good, but you haven’t proven your worth. Not yet, at least.”

  Niki stepped away from Poppy, then looked over her shoulder to speak again. “One more thing. Don’t forget to breathe.”

  Niki walked around the track and started into a jog to get her blood flowing when a whistle blew, alerting the entire team of Coach Braxton’s arrival. It also meant, stop what you’re doing and sit at attention in the middle of the field house. Once all were settled, Coach Braxton began to speak. “We’ve got a very special, shall we say, event today. Two of our athletes are going to race for the anchor spot on this weekend’s relay team.”

  The team began to hoot and holler; they all knew what was on the line. Niki picked Poppy out of the crowd of athletes. Her head was down and her spirit, broken.

  “Uh, Coach?” Poppy stuck her arm up.

  “Yeah, Poppy, we know it’s you, no need to raise your hand.”

  “No. Coach, that’s not it,” Poppy said.

  The room fell silent.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know if I can race.”

  I knew it, Niki thought.

  Coach Braxton wore a look of confusion. “What do you mean, you don’t know if you can race?”

  “I . . . I don’t feel well.”

  “What? Like you feel like you’re going to be sick?”

  “No, not exactly.” She looked up, but then shot her head down again.

  He could tell something was eating at her. “Stand up, Poppy.”

  She did as she was told. He walked over to her and said, “What’s the problem then?”

  “I just don’t feel like I can race today.”

  He leaned in to say quietly, “Poppy, I gave Chase my word. If you don’t race, you’re going to hand her your spot on the relay team this weekend. Do you still want to back out?”

  Poppy shook her head no.

  Coach Braxton headed back to the inside part of the track. “Race starts on my whistle.”

  The entire team rose from the floor and followed both athletes as they walked to the starting blocks. Niki held her head high. She jumped in place, rolled her neck, then shook out her legs and arms. Niki gave a fleeting glance to Poppy, who walked forward as if defeated. Niki had broken her down with nothing but the truth. But sometimes when an athlete hears the things Niki said, it rattles them and they lose their edge. The ego, especially at the collegiate level, is fickle in most athletes, and losing that edge over your opponent can stay with you. If Poppy didn’t snap out of it soon, it wasn’t just this race that she would have to worry about, but every race for the remainder of her sprinting career.

  Both women took their positions on the floor. Niki breathed in, then out. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she could feel it coursing through her veins. She loved the feeling, having experienced it on mission with ZULU, but this was different. This was a more controlled environment.

  “Take your marks,” Coach Braxton said, placing his whistle on his lips.

  Niki ignored the sound of whispers around her. The team closed in, almost surrounding them as they waited for the sound. At the screech, Niki thrusted her arms forward. She and Poppy got out of the blocks simultaneously. They turned the first corner and ran down the straightaway. They were side by side, but Niki soon began to pull away. She wondered why it was possible but wasn’t about to turn around to see. Every muscle in her legs and arms ached as she pushed, harder than she ever had in any race. When she crossed the finish line, she jogged another fifty yards before stopping. To her surprise, none were there to offer their congratulations. Instead, Coach Braxton and the entire track and field team were surrounding their fallen team member. Niki walked over but couldn’t immediately tell what had happened to Poppy, not until Coach Braxton lifted her up from the ground. She hobbled on her right leg and was helped off the track by two other team members.

  Rory walked up to Niki. “Congratulations,” he said.

  “What happened to her?”

  “Her hamstring. It popped.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  Niki was so busy staring at Poppy as she exited the field house, she didn’t even notice Coach Braxton walking right toward her.

  “Congratulations, Chase.”

  Still unaware he was talking to her, Rory nudged her. “Did you hear Coach?”

  “What did you say, Coach?” Niki said as he passed.

  He spun back around. “I said congratulations. You’re the new anchor on the four-by.”

  What? Niki couldn’t believe it. She felt bad for Poppy. She never wanted her to get hurt; she simply wanted to get into her head. Obviously, she accomplished that. Now, as she contemplated the upcoming meet, her heart began to quicken. Competing against college athletes during a weekend meet was a different story altogether. And being the anchor leg on one of the best teams in the conference? Well, that’s another story entirely.

  10

  Somewhere in southern Minnesota

  IT WAS NOON. AND THE women lay on their beds hungry. Ever since Ashley’s rebellion, Walter neglected to feed them three meals a day. Instead, they now only ate one. His punishment for Ashley’s impudence. None spoke a word to each other, and that was starting to eat at Ashley’s psyche. The women were sitting no more than a few paces from each other, but out of fear they refused to converse. Even when Walter stepped outside of the cabin for more firewood. Ashley tried once again but was shot down because they had no idea when Walter would reenter.

  Walter stood over the wood stove, stirring their lunch. Stew again. Flavorless, dull, boring brown slop, which Ashley could hardly ingest anymore. But to fill the ache inside, she had to force it down. Walter was stirring the stew with a wooden spoon when his phone buzzed next to him.

  “Hello?” he answered. He looked to the women before he spoke again. “Yes. They’re all very well behaved.” He smiled wide, this time only looking at Ashley. “I understand.” They could hear only one side of the conversation, but they all knew who spoke on the other: Mr. Ritter. “Where is the event?” Walter moved to a drawer in the kitchen and lifted a pen and piece of paper. He scribbled on it. “What time?” He wrote that down as well. “Murdered?” he questioned.

  The word murdered sent Ashley against the wooden wall. She looked to the others, and they went rigid at the word as well.

  “How?” Walter said.

  He must’ve received his answer because his next question brought with it more emotion. “That’s why you need another one?”

  Another one? Someone else is coming? Ashley found hope in that. Of course, she felt horrible for the poor girl who would be abducted, but selfishly it was a way she could make a connection with someone who wasn’t already upset with her.

  “Understood. I will make contact once I have her.”

  Walter hung up the phone, then went back to the stew. He stirred and stirred. It had to be nearing completion, but he didn’t stop, not for another ten minutes.

  “Is it done yet?” the gir
l by the wall said.

  Walter shot her an annoyed look. “For you, no.”

  “Please, I’m . . . I’m starving. You only feed us once a day, and it’s . . . it’s only that. Please. Please,” she begged.

  Walter bent down, hovering over her and breathing heavily.

  “Leave her alone,” Ashley said.

  Walter shot her a stern gaze from his crouched state. Then he stood tall and turned his nose up. “I see we have an ungrateful bunch this afternoon. Maybe I should just enjoy this batch all to myself.”

  “No. Please,” the woman in the middle begged.

  Ashley held her tongue. Truth was, she could use a day off from the stew, but her strength was lacking, and her belly ached to be filled, even if it tasted horrible.

  Walter glared at each woman, then moved back to the stockpot. He nodded to himself and curled his lower lip before lifting the pot from the burner. There were three bowls sitting next to it, but he didn’t grab the ladle; instead, he opened the door to the outside and tossed the light brown stew onto the freshly fallen pure white snow.

  “On second thought, I’ll stop and grab a burger on my way into town.” Each fell back onto the mattress dejected. Then the other women stared at Ashley, as if they blamed her for Walter’s outburst.

  Walter lifted his keys from the ring next to the door and said, “I’ll be back tonight. Don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll know.” Walter nodded to the cameras that were set up in every corner of the shack.

  Once he was gone, Ashley shook her handcuffs repeatedly, doing everything she could to yank her wrists free. But the cuffs were too tight, and the metal dug in and pierced her skin, drawing blood. The moment she saw it, she paused. Tears fell as she collapsed in defeat, feeling sorry for herself.

  “Oh, dry your eyes. You did this,” the woman next to her said. “You made him toss the food away.”

  Ashley turned her nose up. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “You heard me, this is your fault.”

  “My fault?” Ashley said.

  Then the other girl chimed in. “Yeah, it is your fault, you’re the one who got us beaten. Made Walter stop giving us food.”