Third Degree

by J. D. Dudycha

  Walter sat nearby as well. But not on any of the more comfortable beds. He took his spot at the kitchen table and simply stared at them. He reverted to his silent self. And with that silence, more fear abounded.

  Every crackle in the fireplace made Ashley jump. And when Niki turned to look at the fire, she heard the squeaking of brakes outside.

  Tell me that’s you, Collar. Tell me you’ve come for these girls. But Niki knew it was unlikely. The others heard it as well, and any hope they were clinging to left their faces, vanished in that instant. Maybe deep down each woman hoped Mr. Ritter would die in a fiery accident on his way back or that Walter was somehow mistaken. But that wasn’t to be.

  When Mr. Ritter entered, he shook the snow from his coat and hair, like he’d been out in the elements for hours or had hiked from somewhere far away, but it was only the walk from his vehicle. All three women scooted back on their mattresses and brought their knees into their chests. None knew the others were doing the same thing; it was just instinct.

  Mr. Ritter grinned. Then he looked to his brother who sat at the table. “Are they all cleaned up and ready to go?”

  Walter nodded yes.

  “Good. Then give them their dose and let’s go.”

  Their dose? Niki wondered. That can’t be good.

  Niki remembered being bound and gagged when Walter had kidnapped her. Is that what this will be? Chloroform? Or some other agent to knock us out?

  But it seemed that wasn’t the case. Walter walked toward the sink and lifted a few syringes and a small brown bottle from the drawer. Walter stuck the needle through the top of the bottle and pulled back, filling the first syringe with a brown liquid. He turned to the first woman, the one closest to him.

  She crawled backward as far as she could, scooting away from Walter as he approached. “No. No. Please.” Tears streamed down her face as she begged him to stop.

  Mr. Ritter put his hand on Walter’s shoulder and moved toward her as she cowered in fear.

  “Shh,” Mr. Ritter said. “Quiet child. This will all be over soon.” He grinned again.

  Of course, this wouldn’t be over soon. According to Walter, this was only the beginning, the beginning of their end. She calmed herself long enough for Walter to bend down next to Mr. Ritter. He tied a rubber band around her arm to find the protruding vein, then stuck her with the syringe.

  Niki studied the young woman’s reaction. She wanted to determine how her body would respond to the liquid inside the syringe. It didn’t take long for her eyes to roll back into her head and for her to fall unconscious.

  “Uncuff her and bring her into the SUV,” Mr. Ritter said.

  Walter followed the order and disappeared. Niki recalled what Collar had said over the phone. “Do not let them stick you with any sort of needle. Don’t let a drug confuse you, control your body, lower your inhibitions.”

  The wind howled and flakes of snow poured inside from the open door as Mr. Ritter stood in front of the remaining two women.

  “Where are we going?” Niki said.

  He smiled and said, “Like I told you, I have a very extensive client base. They have exquisite tastes and can’t wait to meet the both of you.”

  “So, what, we’re all going to the same spot?” Niki probed.

  Mr. Ritter remained silent, studying Niki.

  “Well?” Niki urged.

  Mr. Ritter walked over to Niki and crouched down. “What’s your name again?”

  Without missing a beat, she said, “Chase Crane.”

  “That’s right. Ms. Crane. Sounds made-up.” He studied her again, maybe looking at her eyes to see if she’d slip up.

  But she didn’t. “Chase is my mother’s maiden name, you dick, it’s not made-up.”

  Shit, he knows. Niki knew she had to be cautious.

  He was towering over her when Walter returned. Walter moved to the countertop to retrieve the next syringe. He ripped a package open and took one step toward Ashley, but Mr. Ritter cut off his advance.

  “No. Do her next.” He pointed at Niki.

  Frantically, Niki looked toward Ashley, and her eyes bulged. Could this be the last time the two ever saw each other again? Niki had to do something. “Wait.” She held up the only hand she could to stop Walter.

  “For what?” Mr. Ritter said.

  “You still didn’t answer my question.”

  Mr. Ritter sighed, and Walter continued toward her. “Why does it matter to you? Don’t you understand? Even if you’re together now, you won’t be in the end,” Mr. Ritter said.

  Neither Niki nor Ashley could understand all that he meant, not yet. Walter bent down, tying the rubber band around her arm.

  “What do you mean?” Niki looked at Mr. Ritter.

  “You won’t be together in the same place. And the only thing you will have to worry about is how to satisfy the man who’s on top of you.”

  Niki gulped and fumed with rage but could do nothing. Mr. Ritter nodded to Walter to continue. He reached forward with the syringe as Niki sucked in air through her gritted teeth and watched as the needle approached her arm. She wanted to swat the needle away, to somehow escape from the binds that held her, but there was no way.

  As the needle entered, Mr. Ritter said, “You’ll be safe and sound soon.”

  And the last thing Niki remembered before everything went dark was the evilest, most maniacal grin she’d ever witnessed on a man’s face.

  25

  TWO DAYS LATER, WALTER paced back and forth inside the shack, screaming to himself, “You’ve been a naughty boy! It’s time to pay the piper!” Words his mother and stepfather used to say over and over when he was younger and had stepped out of line. He tore at his hairline, scraping so hard that he drew blood. An urge grew inside him, another type of scratch he couldn’t itch. The women were gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Before leaving, his brother gave him strict instructions. Lie low and don’t do anything stupid. But Walter had been living with the women in his care for the better part of a month. He came to know them, relied on them being there, and now that they were gone, he didn’t know how to cope.

  “Just one. One more. Take one more. He’ll be proud of me. I’ll get him another, and he can sell her. But not before she stays with me, at least for a while.” A devious grin grew on his face. “I will keep her secret. And it will be mine. My little secret.”

  Keys dangled from the hook by the door. Walter moved toward them and lifted them, but he stalled at the doorway. “No. You can’t go. He won’t like it.” He was battling within himself. He paused, then stared at the floor. Finally he raised his head and said, “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  Walter rushed through the front door and moved into the cold of the day. As he walked to the SUV, he realized he hadn’t given much thought to his plan. In the past Mr. Ritter had given him the targets, his girls, the women he abducted; everything was calculated. What would Walter do on his own? Just take the first women he came across? In that moment, even he didn’t know, but the compulsion to go was stronger than his uncertainty. He simply hopped into the SUV, much like he had with any past order to receive his next package, and like the trained dog that he was, he drove forward with only one destination in mind: the farm. The farm was familiar. And he had a drawer there, a drawer full of charms he could peruse and choose. One that would fit some poor soul he would find as he drove north to Minneapolis.

  Once on I35 north, Walter drove with haste.

  She’ll be blonde, like the others, he thought. She must be, otherwise he’ll be disappointed when he finally gets to meet her. Of course, he meant his stepbrother, whose approval he’d always desperately sought. She’ll be my crowning achievement. The best of the litter, I’ll show him. I don’t need his help to do this. His or mother’s.

  Walter’s mother had died five years prior, but he still felt her there, looming over his shoulder, correcting every little thing he did. Nothing was ever good enough. She alw
ays made sure to remind him how little he meant to her.

  Maybe a swimmer. I don’t think he’s found a swimmer yet. Long lean body. Yes. A swimmer. It was decided, at least in his mind. A swimmer wouldn’t be too hard to find, not if he was patient. But with his irrational mind, would he make a mistake? Would he slip up?

  Walter turned off at the exit for the farm and drove fast. Excitement grew inside him, ready to burst at any moment. He breezed through town, blowing the red light and coming upon his turn. He swung the SUV left, nearly tipping on two wheels as the SUV fishtailed. After regaining control, Walter floored the gas, making short work of the distance between him and the family farm. He turned down the long drive and weaved along the road, running over the banks of snow that piled high on the side. As snow flew up in a mist of white, Walter drove on and only stopped when he reached the front of the barn.

  He was too focused on his objective to notice the fresh tire tracks in the snow. He was blinded by the treasure trove that awaited him at the center of the barn. His pleasure chest. His shrine.

  FARIBAULT, MINNESOTA

  With two hands, Collar held her cup of hot coffee only inches from her face. She took small sips so that she could not only feel the warmth on her face but also have feeling return to her hands.

  Over the past few days, Collar and Risen had been pounding the pavement around Walter’s family home. They asked neighbors if they knew anything about his whereabouts. Some were cordial, others weren’t. But all had the same answer. Not one had seen him, at least not around town. One man did say he saw a snowplow company plowing their driveway whenever they received more than a five-inch snowfall. Risen followed up on that lead, but it turned out the plow company was paid a year in advance and with cash mailed directly to their place of business.

  “What can I get you two for breakfast?” the waitress asked.

  Risen nodded at Collar to begin with her order. Before Collar could say a word, the radio on the table sparked to life. “Risen! You copy? Over!” Smith called through the radio. Both could tell his voice was excited and frantic.

  “Go ahead, over.”

  “He’s here! He just pulled up in a black SUV!”

  “You mean, he’s there, right now?!” Collar and Risen scooted out the booth and brushed past the waitress. Collar dropped some money on the table for the coffee, and they sprinted to the sedan.

  “That’s right. He just pulled up. Do you want us to approach?”

  “Is he armed?”

  Silence hung for a moment over the airwaves. “Not that we can see through the binoculars. Do you want us to approach?”

  “Negative. Only if he tries to exit the premises. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” Collar questioned, knowing they were at least twenty out.

  Both dropped into the sedan. “Keep me in the loop. Out.” Risen spun the key and fired up the strobe and sirens, bursting through the parking lot then entering the ramp to fly south on I35.

  AFTER DROPPING THE lock from the rolling door, Walter looked to the ground. There were footprints there, multiple pairs of varying sizes. His brow dropped in concern, and he spun around, backing away from the barn. He wasn’t a bright man, but even he discerned that the footprints were out of the ordinary.

  Once away from the barn door, he looked toward the house. “Mom?” he called out. Of course there was no answer. He walked toward the house but couldn’t bring himself to climb the stairs to the front door. The scars of what went on inside that house were too much to bear, even for a burly man like Walter. He turned back to the barn, the only place he felt somewhat safe.

  Against his better judgement he decided to enter the barn. He slid the door open and stepped inside. After flipping on the light, his eyes scanned all around. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He continued but slowly, taking small steps.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said into the depths of the barn.

  He expected someone to answer, but there was no reply. He continued to his sanctuary. His workbench of love and memory. Upon approach, he realized something was indeed very wrong. The women’s photos attached to the frame were out of order. It was as if they’d been placed around the perimeter without proper care, and he was disgusted.

  “What have they done to you?” Walter picked off all the pictures and brushed them off with care, bringing each one to his cheek, caressing it. He realized in that moment someone had snuck inside the barn. An uninvited guest. He lifted his head to peer up to the second story of the barn, to its wood floor. He wondered if someone had been upstairs. Had they seen the dead women? He wouldn’t stay to find out. Instead, Walter opened his drawer of charms, scattered them around until he found a swimmer, then turned around and walked for his SUV. His mission remained the same, even with the appearance of an intruder. He needed to get his fix. His urge could never be stifled, not until the smell, the feel of the woman he craved was in his arms.

  26

  SPEEDING DOWN I35, Collar grasped the handrail above her head as Risen spun in a left turn onto the expressway ramp. The car slid, fishtailing to the right, but being an expert driver in these conditions, Risen corrected his course and proceeded onward.

  “Damn,” Collar said. “Nice recovery.”

  Risen turned to her briefly and grinned.

  “Risen, you copy?” Smith said.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “He’s coming out.”

  Risen and Collar shared a look of concern. Risen looked to the clock. “We’re five minutes out. Stall!”

  After a brief pause Smith replied, “How would you like me to do that, sir?”

  “Cut off his advance. Pull into the driveway, pretend you’re lost. Ask for directions, anything. Just don’t let him leave.”

  “Yes, sir,” Smith said.

  Risen lowered the radio, then reached for the siren and flicked it off.

  “Do you think Walter will give up his organization? Give up everyone?” Collar said.

  “I don’t know, but he’s been to prison once and I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant stay. After we connect him to the barn and the seven bodies inside, he’s looking at murder seven times over. At the very least an accessory to murder, if we don’t find his DNA on any of the bodies. If he gives up some of those men, maybe we cut him a deal. Maybe institutionalize him versus the cell.”

  “What if he starts shooting?” Collar needed to know for her own benefit how that would play out. Because if they didn’t take him alive, they’d be no closer to finding her niece or Niki.

  Rather than answer her question, Risen lifted the radio and called Smith back. “Smith, you copy? Over.”

  “I’m here, go ahead,” he said.

  “We need him alive. At all costs, you copy? I repeat, do not use lethal force.”

  “Copy that, sir. He’s coming down the driveway now, we are about to move into position, out.”

  Collar didn’t know why she held her breath. Perhaps because she was used to being in control during these missions, and now she wasn’t. She was at the mercy of Risen’s men, and the fates of both Niki and Ashley hung on Smith’s ability to get the job done.

  WALTER DROVE DOWN THE driveway but paused at the sight of another vehicle. A black sedan with tinted windows. His tires rolled to a stop, and he peered straight ahead. There were two men standing outside the vehicle with an unfolded map blowing in the wind. Walter could see them pointing one way, then turning around and pointing the other. They looked like they were lost.

  The two men turned toward Walter’s approaching SUV. They offered a wave and took two steps toward him.

  Ram them, an inner voice told Walter. He didn’t trust them. They’re the ones who’ve been sniffing around the farm. Ram them. Now. And Walter followed the voice, flooring the gas. He sped directly toward the driver-side door. The men split like firewood, diving for cover. Walter rammed into the side of the sedan, pushing it into the ditch on the side of the roa
d. He threw the SUV into reverse and sped backward. He didn’t notice that the men were on the ground drawing their weapons and pointing them at the vehicle.

  After backing up a few feet, Walter had to stop momentarily to put the SUV back into drive. When he did, one of the men appeared at the side of his door. The man lifted the handle, but it slipped from his hands. The door was locked. Walter didn’t linger for the man to try anything else. As he sped forward, the other man stood in the middle of the road with his weapon raised.

  “Get out of the truck, Walter.”

  Walter breathed heavily, finding it hard to catch his breath.

  Go through him. Go find your girl. You need to find her, now.

  Again Walter floored the gas. The man could have easily fired a few rounds, but instead, he stepped aside and let Walter pass before sprinting back to the ditched sedan. Walter stared in his rearview to watch the men disappear in the dusting snow kicking up from his tires. He grinned. He was free from them and away from danger. But when he regained vision through the windshield, he realized that was anything but true.

  “THERE,” COLLAR SAID, pointed straight ahead into the windshield.

  Both could see the black SUV racing directly toward them. Risen let off the gas to gauge what Walter would do. Then through the radio, a warning rang out.

  “He’s crazy. Rammed us. Tried to run us over.”

  Risen’s eyes went big in their sockets. He turned to Collar as he pulled the car over. “Get out!”

  “What? No.”

  Risen peered through the windshield. “Get out, now!”