Third Degree

by J. D. Dudycha

  Niki spoke softly to calm him. “I know it’s difficult. It’s okay, I can help you. Just go get the first aid kit.”

  Shaking his head still, Walter gripped his injured hand with the other, then walked to the other room. Niki and the other women stared as he left for the back part of the home, the part none of them had seen.

  “What was that about?” Ashley whispered.

  Niki kept her eye on the door left ajar, and said, “I have an idea, but it’s tough to say for sure.”

  “Do you think he’ll be okay? What if he needs stitches? If he has to see a doctor, maybe we can get out of here,” Ashley said.

  “No!” one of the others said. “Don’t you remember? You already tried to escape once.”

  Surprised, Niki said, “You did?”

  She nodded. “I did. Right after I arrived, I was able to break free and I ran out the door. I got pretty far but then collapsed in the snow.”

  “What did Walter do?” Niki was truly interested; would he really get violent, or was he acting a part?

  “He whipped me with a belt.”

  Niki held her hand to her mouth. “Seriously?” Maybe Niki had him pegged wrong. Sure, he hit her and dropped her in the snow, but so far—inside—she hadn’t seen him get violent.

  “Yeah, and again, after Mr. Ritter came the first time,” Ashley said.

  “The first time?” Niki said.

  “Yeah. He took another girl, a few days ago.”

  Color left Niki’s face and her mouth fell open.

  “What is it?” Ashley said, noticing her concern.

  Niki wavered. Tell them. They need to know. “They found a girl dead. She looks like us, like all of us.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Nora Hanson.”

  All three gasped, knowing that she was only there days prior, and now she was dead. They couldn’t help but think that was their fate as well.

  “But, Mr. Ritter . . . he . . . he said we would be sex slaves or something. Not . . .” One girl paused, swallowing back her emotion.

  “Not what?” Niki completed her open-ended statement, then proceeded with her own perspective. “Tell you the truth, I’d rather be dead than be someone’s slave.”

  A crash from the back of the house rang out, then a scream of frustration. Each woman jolted upright and immediately ceased talking as they heard Walter’s heavy footsteps coming their way. He appeared in the doorway with the first aid kit. Blood was everywhere now. On his shirt, forearm, and both hands. He walked over and shoved the blood-soaked key into Niki’s shackles to release her wrist.

  If only you knew what was coming to you, but now, now is not the time. Niki rubbed out the pain from her wrist. In that moment, Niki knew she had to play her role. Sure, she could fight Walter, and maybe she’d win, but what would that accomplish? That wouldn’t get her to the head of the snake. It would only kill the trained mutt in Minnesota. She needed to find the top of the pyramid of this trafficking ring. Taking out the lower rung would do nothing aside from liberate the four women. These abductions would keep happening over and over and over. They wouldn’t stop, ever.

  She touched Walter on the shoulder ever so gently and guided him to the sink where the remaining dishes were. She turned the temperature cold and guided Walter’s hand under the pouring water. He winced when the water touched his cut. Niki reached for the kit that sat on the countertop and opened the lid. The first thing she grabbed was the alcohol swabs. After tearing them open, she looked to Walter and said, “This is going to hurt a little.”

  There was fear in the big man’s eyes. Childlike fear. He held out his hand, but his limbs went rigid, and he looked away and closed his eyes. Niki held onto his fingers and wiped the swab over the cut.

  “Ouch!” He slammed his heavy foot down and reeled in the pain.

  Niki blew on the wound to dry the alcohol. She grabbed the gauze and applied pressure, but more blood poured from the gash, soaking the gauze red.

  “You’re going to need stitches.” Niki looked up at him.

  Through a slotted opening of his eyes, Walter looked at Niki and said, “No stitches.”

  Niki looked to the other women. They lay helpless on their beds. Niki caught Ashley’s eye. Her face told the story. Why aren’t you letting us out? Niki knew that’s exactly what she was thinking, and if she was in Ashley’s position, she’d be thinking the same thing, but she was being tactful, and in no way would she risk the end goal. When she looked back at Walter, she said, “Do you have a needle and thread?”

  Walter shook his head no.

  “Didn’t think so.” Niki dropped her head to the floor to think. “Superglue?” Her head shot up in a smile.

  “Yes. I have that, but not here.”

  “Where?”

  “A secret place.”

  “Is it close?” Niki said.

  Walter nodded.

  “Good, ’cause we need to close that wound before you bleed out.”

  But then Walter shook his head no. “You can’t go.”

  “Why not?” Niki said. “You expect to drive while holding that on your hand? I know how you hate the sight of blood. You won’t make it a mile.”

  “Fine.” Walter walked to the door and grabbed the keys by the door.

  Niki followed him out, but spun back around, looking at the other three women, and mouthed, I’ll be back.

  18

  Minneapolis, Minnesota

  FROM THE PASSENGER seat, Collar peered over at the speedometer. Risen was driving over ninety-five miles per hour. As they sped south on Interstate 35, in a blur they blew by vehicles pulled over on the side of the road. Four other sedans, sirens blaring, followed close behind.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “South.”

  “I got that. But where?”

  “Outside a small town south of Faribault.”

  “Is that where you think Walter is holding the young women?”

  “My gut says no.”

  “Then why the sudden rush to get there?”

  “Are you really going to ask me that question? You of all people?”

  Collar stared out the windshield for a moment. Then she looked over at Risen. “It just seems, if you don’t think my niece or my operative is there, why draw so much attention? Why not come in slow? You know, cut off the sirens?”

  “That was my plan once we get outside the suburbs. The city is away from Minneapolis by quite a ways, so I figure we get through this traffic, then come in slow.”

  “Smart.” Collar nodded. “Tell me, where’d you come across the tip?”

  Risen rested his head against the seat back. He glanced at Collar confused. “What do you mean, you saw my agent bring it to me?”

  “Right, but what was the origin of the tip?”

  Risen swallowed his words. He wanted to have a good answer but didn’t.

  “Oh, come on, Pete. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of that?”

  “Thought of what?”

  “That this tip could be bullshit. Something to throw you, us, and the rest of the FBI off their game. Classic magician’s sleight of hand. Look over here at this hand, while my other picks your pocket.”

  “No. My guy’s legit. He would never.”

  “I’m not talking about your guy, I’m talking about where he found the lead. Did it just magically appear? I mean, think about it. How long have you been after these guys?”

  Risen rubbed his forehead, brushing his full hair back.

  “What is it?” Collar asked.

  “You’re right. It may be too good to be true, but I have to follow up on it. And my agent found it himself. It was right there in front of us the entire time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Supposedly it’s the address of Walter’s mother’s place.”

  “His mother?”

  “That’s right. An old farmhouse registered in her maiden name. Been in her family for generations. That’s
why we missed it before when we cross-referenced everything against Walter and his past.”

  “So no one has ever seen this house?” Collar said.

  “None of my guys have.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  Collar curled her lower lip and nodded her head. “Then perhaps you’ve got something.”

  “Let’s just wait and see when we get there.”

  NIKI STEERED THE SMALL SUV east as it rolled through the snow. She glanced at Walter who leaned against the passenger-side window with his forehead pressed against the glass.

  “Stay with me.” Niki hit him on the shoulder. “Don’t you go dying on me.”

  His big body was limp in the seat. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You liberated me, remember?” Niki was quick on her feet. Again, she couldn’t give away her plan.

  Walter smiled. “That’s right, I did, huh?”

  Niki couldn’t tell if his comment was serious; hers sure as hell wasn’t, but she played it cool.

  “I figure, maybe if I do this one thing for you, then you . . .” She paused.

  “I’ll do what?” Walter said, lifting his head.

  “You will return the favor.”

  Walter sniffled, and went back to leaning his head on the window. “If I make it out of this alive, I won’t help you.”

  Dejected, Niki said, “Why not?” Then her voice softened. “I mean, why not? You can help us. Me and the other girls. You don’t need to do this.”

  “You don’t understand. Yes, I do.”

  “For what? That Ritter guy, who is he to you?”

  Without hesitation, he answered, “My brother.”

  Shock hung on Niki’s face as she stared at him. When she glanced back at the road, she had to swerve to veer with the road. “What do you mean, he’s your brother?”

  “I mean, he’s my brother. Not by blood. He’s my stepbrother. Mother always preferred him to me. Always had ever since he and my stepfather came into the picture. They always . . .” Walter became visibly angry talking about them.

  So that’s what this is about. Proving to his brother, and mother, that he’s worth something. Niki missed abnormal psychology in college, but it didn’t take a certified psychiatrist to determine Walter’s inner demons.

  “Your brother’s a piece of shit,” Niki said.

  “Watch your tongue, woman.” He protected him even now, even after going back in his mind to his terrible childhood.

  “Sorry.” Niki held her hands up to soften his tone. “Not what I meant. What I meant was, it just seems that you’re so much better than he is. So much kinder, you know, deep down.”

  Walter smiled, but again, his tone turned defensive. “I know what you’re doing. My brother taught me about your kind. It’s called reverse psychology. You’re just being nice to me so you can get away and tell the police about me and the other women at my shack.”

  “No. I would never.” Niki played coy.

  “Shut up. Just shut up and drive. No more talking. And if you try something, I swear, I’ll snap your neck like a twig.”

  Niki swallowed hard, deciding she would do as she was told. The conversation hit a dead end. She got nothing else out of him, not yet at least.

  PASSING THROUGH THE city of Lakeville, Risen continued driving south but had flipped off the strobes and sirens. There wasn’t as much southbound traffic once they were outside the suburbs of Minneapolis.

  “How much farther do we have?” Collar asked.

  “Not far, maybe another half hour.”

  “Have you given any thought as to how we’re going to approach the property?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “Guns blazing? Shoot-’em-up style?”

  “You know it.” Risen grinned. “You sure are being calm through this whole thing. I mean, they have your girl and your niece.”

  Collar smiled. “Believe me, my niece is in good hands. Niki is more than capable of taking over any situation she’s thrown into.”

  “Oh, it’s Niki now?”

  “Yes. Why? That’s her name. Is there a problem?”

  “No. Not at all. I’m just not used to you calling any of your operatives by their real names.”

  Collar adjusted her attention back out the windshield and stifled her words.

  “I get it,” Risen started. “She’s special to you, huh?”

  Collar nodded, keeping her gaze forward. “You could say that.” Collar wanted to say more but didn’t. There was no denying Collar held a place for Niki and her father deep in her heart. She’d stop at nothing to help them or see them do well. “On second thought, floor it.” Collar grabbed the dashboard and waited for the jerk of momentum as Risen shoved the pedal to the floor.

  “IT’S JUST UP HERE.” Walter pointed with his hand, the one not drenched in blood.

  Niki watched him; he was ghostly white. She no longer thought the superglue would help. He needed a hospital and a blood transfusion, or he may not make it through the night.

  “I don’t think you’re—” Niki started.

  “Enough! I don’t want to hear it. Just drive.”

  And drive she did, following Walter’s vague directions as he dictated every turn. As she followed the road and studied the landscape, everything appeared the same. One farmhouse. Then another and another, with nothing but open grassland. The land was flat, and the wind howled as snow blew in a cyclone over the high grass with nothing to stop it.

  “It’s there,” Walter strained to say.

  Niki lifted her foot from the gas pedal. Another farmhouse appeared down a long drive which ended at a barn. She took a deep breath and continued slowly. When she glanced at Walter, his eyes were closed, and Niki didn’t know how much longer he had.

  Is this Walter’s house? she thought.

  She threw the SUV into park and leaned forward toward the top of the windshield.

  “In the barn,” Walter said. He grabbed for his door handle.

  “I don’t think so,” Niki said. “Save your strength. Besides, the more you work, the harder your blood will pump and the more of it will drain. Just sit tight. Can you do that?”

  Walter stared at her. He didn’t trust her, but what choice did he have? “Here. Superglue is in the workbench drawer.” He handed her a key to the padlock.

  Niki grabbed the key, then stepped out of the SUV and into the cold. Wrapping herself in the oversized jacket Walter lent her, she pushed through the cutting wind. The jacket dropped below her waist but stopped at the knee. The wind flew up her jacket and touched her bare legs, and she shivered as she walked. When she reached the barn, the oversized structure acted as a barrier between her and the wind. She lifted the key from her pocket and extended it toward the padlock. Flipping the snow-covered padlock over, she gripped the metal in her hands which had turned beet red. Even in the mere seconds her fingers had been exposed to the elements, they hurt badly and were almost numb.

  “Damn, it’s cold.” Niki blew into her balled fists, then jabbed the key into the slot and turned.

  The padlock unbuckled and let go. She slid the door across the rolling guard. The waft of rank air overwhelmed her, instantly bringing her back to the barn in Sierra Leone where Payne had held her hostage. The smell was the same, at least from what she could remember. She covered her nostrils as the stench stung to the core. Niki turned around to face the door. She could either shut out the cold and endure the rank odor or leave the door open and minimize the stench. She decided the cold was worse and slid the barn door closed, leaving it open only enough for the light to guide her way.

  Scanning the inside of the barn, it was just as she imagined it. She’d never seen the inside of a real farm’s barn, only in pictures, but this fit the description in her mind precisely. Animal stalls lined both sides, and at the end was a ladder that climbed to the second level. Above in the ceiling was leftover hay pushing down through the rafters. Next to the ladder on the opposite end of the barn was what lo
oked to be some kind of workbench.

  As she moved toward the workbench, it appeared to double as a shrine. “What the—?” Over a dozen photographs were taped around the perimeter. The pictures were of women, presumably women Walter had kidnapped over the years. She reached out and lifted his latest entry—Ashley. She studied the photo. It wasn’t a photo from the shack of her lying on the mattress in a nightgown; no, this photo was taken from her life. Ashley was happy in the photo, smiling wide and full of life.

  “Bastard,” Niki said, then looked back toward the barn door.

  Setting the photo back down onto the bench, Niki reached down and ripped the first drawer open. She went rigid at the sight of the contents of the drawer. There must’ve been over a hundred charms inside. She reached inside and lifted some of them, letting them fall back down through her fingertips. She gritted her teeth and was overcome with rage. That son of a bitch deserves to die. Niki was about to turn around, walk outside, rip Walter from the seat, and leave him on the driveway, in the cold, to freeze to death. That’s what he deserved. But now was not the time to let him die. If she did, she’d never get inside this ring of evil, never find the root. Maybe his brother was pulling the strings, maybe he wasn’t, but Niki couldn’t let Walter die yet.

  She pushed the drawer shut, then moved onto the next. She grabbed the bottle of superglue, then returned to the SUV. Walter was still leaning against the passenger-side window when Niki knocked on it. He shifted slightly, and she opened the door. Very little color remained in his face.

  “This might hurt.” She reached for the towel he was holding over the open wound and yanked down. He screamed in agony. Just because she couldn’t kill him yet didn’t mean she couldn’t hurt him.

  Niki squeezed the bottle of superglue as it oozed over the wound. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled it out into the wind to make it dry faster.

  “Keep it out in the air,” Niki instructed, then walked around the front of the vehicle and took one step toward the barn door. She was about to go lock it, but then thought, No, if I leave it unlocked, someone will check this, I know they will. Someone needs to see this.