Third Degree

by J. D. Dudycha

  Following the same path down the end of the drive, Niki peered over at Walter. How could you do this? What did your mother, your brother . . . what did they do to you? Truth was, Walter had been a victim throughout his entire childhood, but people have a choice how they respond. They can either choose the light or the dark, and Walter chose the latter. He chose darkness, and Niki couldn’t forgive him for it.

  TURNING OFF THE HIGHWAY, Risen sped down the ramp and made the left turn back under the overpass just before the light changed from yellow to red. After driving through the light, he slowed his speed, heeding the posted limit of only forty miles per hour.

  According to his GPS, the farm was less than five miles away. He reached for his radio. “Smith, we’re going to stop in town.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Marcus said.

  Risen rested the radio between his legs and looked at Collar. “I need a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been thinking on the drive down here. You should be the one who approaches the farm.”

  “Me, why?”

  “Because you’re a woman.”

  “Good observation.”

  “No.” Risen grinned. “I mean, if Walter is there, he will be less likely to get violent with you.”

  “And what if he doesn’t live there? What if his mother or father answers the door?”

  “Just tell them you’re selling this.” He handed her a brochure for a roofing contractor.

  She glanced at the brochure, then threw it down. “You really think someone is going to buy that I’m trying to sell new roofing in the middle of winter?”

  “No, but it’s the only thing I have.”

  They came upon the only stoplight in town. To their right was a hardware store, which looked closed or run-down. Risen pulled into the parking lot and shoved the car into park. “Now, let’s go over the plan.”

  19

  LEAVING RISEN BEHIND at the vacant hardware store, Collar proceeded slowly along the country road. The wind howled over the flat open plains, blowing the drifting snow horizontally, impairing her line of sight. A crackling sound erupted from the radio before Risen’s voice broke through.

  “We’re here for you. Waiting less than three minutes away if you need us.”

  Collar grabbed the radio. “That’s comforting.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” Risen snickered.

  Collar smiled, then replied, “You wish.”

  But truth was, Collar didn’t know what to expect. Sure, she’d dealt with terrorists, drug lords, and many other unsavory characters throughout the world, but never, never had she dealt with someone like Walter. Walter was a psychopath—a product of his circumstances and incredibly difficult to control.

  When Collar arrived at the driveway, she hesitated to gather courage. You can do this, Collar thought. This is Ashley . . . and Niki. Don’t fail them now. She took a deep breath, then turned down the drive. Again, she drove slowly, not wanting to cause alarm at the sight of an approaching vehicle.

  Parking in front of the farm house, immediately Collar noticed the open door of the barn at the end of the drive. She lifted her Glock from her holster and shoved it into the glove box of the sedan. Inside the glove box was a flashlight. She lifted it and turned it on to make sure it worked, then quickly turned it back off. She felt for her second gun, hidden at her ankle. Stepping out of the car, she wrapped herself in a coat and walked toward the front of the house.

  The screen door was old, battered, and rusty—beaten down by time and the elements. Collar found no doorbell, so she rapped on the screen. She waited, listening for movement, but it was difficult to hear anything amongst the howling winds. The two porch windows, one on either side of the door, were cracked. The door frame had chipped paint and needed a fresh coat. Collar peered through the window to the right. The gossamer curtain blocked nothing. Dishes. Books. Blankets. Boxes. Everything was strewn about on the floor. Inside was a cluttered disaster; how could anyone live here?

  Collar banged on the screen again, then moved to the left window. Same thing, more boxes, and this time garbage stacked in the corner. There were at least fifty copies of the yellow pages slanted against the wall.

  This house was eerie. Something out of a horror movie. And just because it looked uninhabitable and unoccupied, it probably wasn’t. Collar reached for her radio and called Risen. “Pete, you copy?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “The house looks vacant.”

  “It probably isn’t.”

  “That’s what I thought. What do you want me to do?”

  “Try the door.”

  “Don’t we need a warrant?”

  “Not if you see probable cause.”

  Then Collar looked toward the barn door. It remained open, but it was dark inside. “The barn door is open.”

  “Check it out but, Collar, be careful.”

  “Copy that.” She fastened the radio onto her belt and headed toward the barn.

  When she came close, she yelled into the empty cavity, “Hello? ABC roofers here.” But no one called back. She waited several seconds. Upon her first step inside, the wind blew up the dank air. Disgusted, she covered her mouth and continued inside. “Hello? Is anyone here?” But again, nothing. Only the echo of her own voice.

  As she proceeded, she glanced left then right, noticing the empty animal stalls. Ahead was a workbench. When she reached the bench, her eyes bulged in their sockets, and she took a step back to gather herself. Of course she saw the pictures of the women, but what stood out was Ashley’s picture. And it was no longer taped around the perimeter like the others but lying flat on the top of the bench. Collar lifted the photo. She recognized the picture. It was taken at the lake, at Ashley’s family’s residence. How did Walter come across it? How did he get his hands on that specific photo?

  Then Collar’s mind spun. Why is her photo lying flat? Why isn’t she on the bench, along with the others? Is she gone? Did Walter get rid of her? Is she lying dead somewhere? Collar couldn’t control her thoughts. She reached for her radio and called Risen. “Get over here, now!”

  “Collar, what is it? Did you find the girls?”

  “No. It’s worse than that, much worse.” Of course, she was only thinking of Ashley at this point. It wasn’t the rest of the girls she was worried about right now.

  “On our way!” Risen said, then went silent on the radio.

  Collar needed clarity, more clues. “Ashley!” she yelled into the barn, hoping to hear something, but no reply came. She leaned over and forced open the first drawer she could get her hands on. She stood up and put her hand to her mouth when she saw all the charms inside the drawer.

  “What the hell is this?”

  After ripping open the other drawers, finding nothing else abnormal, Collar spotted a ladder, which led up into the darkness of the rafters. She gulped, then began climbing the ladder. She tilted her chin and called out again. “Ashley! Niki!” Only silence. When she reached the top rung, she rotated her core, and pulled herself onto a plywood platform on the second floor.

  When Collar stood, she recognized a familiar smell lingering in the air, but she couldn’t place it. She reached down for her flashlight and flicked on its powerful rays. The beam first aimed at the floor, but just as she tilted it upward, she caught sight of something metal. It was a rounded mound that spanned a couple feet. As she moved the beam higher, she saw the object’s thick green fabric pulled tight.

  A cot? Collar thought.

  Moving toward the cot, she bent down for a feel. It was polyester. As she scanned the cot with the beam, she halted at its center where it was stained bloodred. Collar held her breath at the presence of the blood, and only let it go once she heard a familiar voice.

  “Collar!” Risen yelled from below.

  She turned toward the ladder and said, “Upstairs. Climb up.”

  She heard commotion below, then saw the beam of light from Risen’s flashlight as he c
limbed to the second level.

  Collar walked toward him. “Did you see the pictures?” she said before he could get off the ladder.

  “I did.”

  “That’s nothing. Come check this out.” Collar guided their path with the flashlight on the floor.

  Collar shined her flashlight on the empty cot like a spotlight.

  “Holy shit.” Risen bent down and felt the fabric on the side of the cot. He looked up at her standing above him.

  Then he stood, and both stared to each other. When they shined their flashlights around the rest of the room, shock set in.

  “My God,” Risen said.

  Collar was at a loss for words.

  Highlighted in the beams of their flashlights were seven more cots. Four cots lined each side of the space. But the rest of these cots weren’t empty. They were filled with seven frozen and perfectly preserved bodies, all of them chained with handcuffs to the frames of the cots.

  20

  Somewhere in southern Minnesota

  BY THE TIME NIKI RETURNED to the shack, some color had returned to Walter’s face. It seemed for the time being the superglue was holding, acting as the clot he needed to survive. When Niki turned the ignition off, she peered through the windshield only to see another car there. It was no ordinary car; it was an oversized black SUV, almost like a government vehicle. A fire lit inside her belly, and a smile began to form.

  Collar. I knew you’d find us.

  But as quickly as it had appeared, her relief faded at the sound of Walter’s voice.

  “That’s my brother. And he’s not going to be happy with you.”

  The air was sucked from her lungs. You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Walter reached down with his hand and opened the door. Niki waited a moment, keeping her hands on the steering wheel and glancing at the keys in the ignition. Take off. Go now. While you still have a chance. But Niki couldn’t listen to that voice. If she did, the girls inside would be as good as dead.

  Alright, Mr. Ritter. I think it’s time you meet the real Niki Finley.

  She leaped from her seat and followed Walter as he walked slowly and deliberately on his way to the door. But it was Niki who reached for the door handle. She wasn’t being kind, just didn’t want to wait in the cold any longer.

  When the door swung open, the sight before her made her mouth drop open. The three women were on all fours, each with a desperate look on their faces. A man stood above them with a belt in his hands. He was breathing heavily, and sweat dripped from his brow.

  Niki quickly shut her mouth, and scorn moved over her face as she stared disgusted at the man terrorizing these young women.

  “Ah, I see, the new one has arrived,” Mr. Ritter said.

  Niki held her tongue as Walter moved around her and toward the center of the room.

  “Why is she not in chains?” Mr. Ritter asked his brother.

  “Because she helped me with this.” Walter held up his cut hand.

  “Stand up!” he yelled to the women on the floor. He stared at the woman closest to him. She cowered in fear. “That’s what this one told me.” He turned his attention back on Walter. “She told me you lost your temper when that one . . .” He pointed at Niki and stepped toward her, closing the gap. He studied her flawless face from only inches away. Niki didn’t cower; she held her gaze and exhaled. “This . . . this little bitch!” He looked her over.

  “I’m not a bitch.” Niki held her head high.

  “No?” Ritter questioned. “You’ll be somebody’s soon.” Then Mr. Ritter spun back into the center of the room.

  We’ll see who’s the little bitch in the end, Niki thought.

  The three women all had their heads down because they knew what was coming. As if the whippings weren’t enough, they knew Mr. Ritter was there for another reason.

  “Now. Who’s my next pick?” He switched his bullying tactic to a more sentimental approach. “You?” He circled the first in line, then moved onto the next and circled her as well. Finally, he moved to Ashley.

  Quick, Niki, do something. He can’t pick her. Take his attention away. Niki moved away from the front door and joined Ashley by her side, facing forward and awaiting Mr. Ritter’s judgment.

  “Eager, are we?” Mr. Ritter grinned, then looked to Walter, but his brother offered no remarks. “Drop the coat.” He glared at Niki.

  “Excuse me?” Niki was offended.

  “Excuse you?” Mr. Ritter didn’t give her a second chance; he reached forward and ripped the coat from her body.

  Niki clenched her fists, ready to pound him if he tried anything else.

  “Now, that’s more like it.” He tilted his head to the side. “This way I can see you. I can see what my clients will be looking for.”

  “Your clients?” Niki didn’t know how far to push him, but she needed answers.

  Again, Mr. Ritter turned to Walter. “A spirited one, she is. I can see why you got so upset and cut your hand.”

  He reached for Niki. “My clients pay me for you. For the privilege to take you any way they wish.” He stared down Niki’s shirt at her cleavage. “And for you, honey, I see them paying me plenty. But not today. I’m going to save you for later.” He spun away from Niki.

  You don’t know it yet, but you’re a dead man.

  “And the lucky winner is . . .” Mr. Ritter’s voice shut up, as if the woman would be just as excited to receive the news as he was to give it. He didn’t say her name; he simply stared directly at the woman in the middle.

  “No! No! Take her.” She pointed down the line at Niki. “She’s the one who made him cut his hand.” She nodded to Walter. “She did it. She did it.”

  Annoyed, Mr. Ritter rolled his eyes and nodded to Walter, but he didn’t move. He simply held up his hand and said, “I can’t. It’s hurt bad.”

  Mr. Ritter huffed and shook his head. “Argh, you’re useless.” Mr. Ritter grabbed her by the handcuffs and dragged her near the door. She screamed, “Help me! Let go of me!”

  “That’s enough!” Mr. Ritter shook the cuffs and startled her. “Didn’t you hear what happened to the last girl who tried to defy me? She’s dead in a ditch right now. Keep it up and you’ll end up the same.”

  Niki wanted to leap from her standing position to take Mr. Ritter down. To beat him to death right there on the floor, but she knew Walter wouldn’t allow it, even being semi-injured. But how could she just let the poor woman go? She started to speak but swallowed her words and, in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Niki felt ashamed. With no idea what would happen to her, she let the girl go—to a fate unimaginable.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Mr. Ritter said to Walter. “Make sure they don’t get the better of you. Especially that one there.” He nodded to Niki.

  Mr. Ritter spun and reached for the door, pulling the woman behind him like a slave. When the door closed after them, Niki stared at it. This was like a bad dream. She needed to wake up and figure out how to save the innocent girl.

  Damnit, Collar! How dare you put me in this position? Niki blamed her, but deep down she knew this was on her; after all, she had volunteered to come. She knew what she was getting into, maybe not to this degree, but now she realized she couldn’t stomach it anymore. To see the wallowing pain on the woman’s face as she left, knowing what awaited her, was agonizing. In that moment, Niki vomited on the wood floor in the middle of the room.

  21

  Walter’s family home

  AGENT COLLAR STOOD in the second story of the barn. The FBI had made the entire area a complex crime scene. LED work lights were stationed around the open space, lighting up the interior structure like a shining star in the clear night sky. Collar held tight to her white mocha latte, blowing into the cup before taking a sip. She wanted to help but didn’t really know where to start. Her investigative skills were lacking, at least compared to Risen’s task force.

  She was alone in the barn at the early morning hour, and she stared at the seven cot
s full of frozen bodies. Before Risen and his team left the previous night, he and the medical examiner confirmed that each of the women had died of starvation. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The woman had all died at different times, some weeks prior to the others, which meant some of the women had been there, chained to their cots, enduring the smell of decaying bodys day in and day out, agonizing over what their own future held.

  None were Niki or her niece, but that didn’t make her feel better. This scene of darkness was unnerving, to say the least. The medical examiner also confirmed that these women were abused multiple times over. A clarifying factor that this was indeed a pleasure house.

  Collar imagined the women’s tormented screams. Wails in peril as their bodies ached for food, for water, for shelter, but had none. Their natural, God-given instincts and rights were stripped from them. Collar’s primary emotion was wrath.

  “Collar? You up there?” Risen asked, then climbed the ladder before receiving his answer.

  Once upstairs, he turned and stepped in front of her. Still she didn’t respond. “Hello, you in there?” Risen said, waving his hands in front of her face.

  Shaking from rage, Collar said, “Tell me you got something on these bastards?”

  Risen opened a manila folder and handed her some photos, but none resembled those from downstairs on the workbench. She flipped through them, studying them in detail. Every woman had the same defining characteristics as the pictures hung on the workbench below. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Young. Pretty. Physically fit. There was a pattern here. These women were all connected. There were seven photos in all. “The women?” Collar nodded to the cots.

  He shook his head yes.

  “We’ve just alerted their families, but it may take a while for them to get here.”

  Collar dropped her head, not hearing the second part of Risen’s sentence. What would she say to her brother and Gage Finley, if it came to that? Emotions rolled over her, when she realized what she had done. She knew Niki was willing to put herself into a dangerous situation, but this defied all imagination.