It's Not Over

by Willow Rose

  “He was my stepbrother,” Mary corrected herself. “I didn’t know him very well since he was a teenager, and I was only a toddler. He ran away from home when I was still very young. He was found in a river nearby after having driven into the water in his dad’s car that he stole. That’s all I’ve been told. I was so young, a toddler at the time, so I really only know what they told me. No one spoke anything about it for most of my childhood. Especially not his dad. My mom only told me these things when we were alone, but even she didn’t like me asking about Roy. That was his name, Roy Hudson.”

  “What happened to him?” I asked. “Did he die?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  “No, but he suffered brain damage and was put in a home. That’s all I know. I haven’t heard about him since I was a child, and frankly haven’t thought about him for many years.”

  “And where is he now? Do you know?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I would guess that he’s still there—at the home.”

  “Would your parents know? Your stepdad? He must know if his son still lives in the home, right?”

  Mary’s eyes hit the floor. Peter put his arm around her shoulder.

  “Mary’s mom and stepdad died twenty-two years ago.”

  My eyes met Peter’s. “How did they die?”

  Mary’s eyes filled as she looked up at me. “House fire. It happened at night. They didn’t make it out.”

  “Were there autopsies?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Why is this important now? I don’t seem to understand.”

  “Me either. At least not yet, but there is something here,” I said. “I just know there is.”

  Chapter 49

  “I got the autopsies from twenty-two years ago,” I said and rolled my chair closer to Brad’s. He looked up from his screen, and I added: “On Mary’s parents. Or rather it was her mom and stepdad.”

  “And?”

  I scoffed. “You’re not gonna believe this. Both had water in their lungs. It was suggested that they might have died before the fire started, but it was never investigated. It wasn’t conclusive enough.”

  Brad leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck. “Wow. They could have been murdered?”

  I nodded. “I think so, yes. My hunch tells me that’s what happened. Did you get ahold of the stepbrother’s long-term care facility?”

  “I found it and called The Magnolia House in Kentucky. I spoke to the manager there, Joanna Holmes, a nice lady. But get this, she told me he’s no longer there. Roy Hudson escaped from the home twenty-two years ago. He got away, and the police never found him. They haven’t heard from him since. The case is an unsolved missing person’s report at the local police department.”

  My eyes grew wide.

  “Really? Well, isn’t that a coincidence. What date did he escape?”

  “October 21st.”

  “Exactly one week earlier. One week before his dad and stepmom perished in a house fire.”

  Brad leaned forward.

  “Okay, okay. Let me get this straight. What you’re saying is that you think Mary’s stepbrother, Roy Hudson, escaped the home he was in, then went to his dad’s and stepmom’s house, drowned them somehow, maybe in a bathtub, then burned the house down around them, is that it?”

  I nodded while the many thoughts rushed through my mind. Finally, I was getting somewhere; I could feel it in my bones. I didn’t know exactly how the pieces fit together. I just knew they did.

  I nodded. “That’s the theory, yes.”

  “And what else? What else is your theory?” he asked.

  “That he came for Mary next, that Roy, her stepbrother, took both her children years later.”

  “So, you’re saying he waited twelve years? Why the long wait?”

  “That, I don’t know. It could be many reasons. Like maybe he couldn’t find her. She had married and gotten a new last name. Or maybe he needed time to plan it properly. He wanted her to hurt more for some reason, so he came up with taking her children and killing them. He might have spent the time getting close to her or observing her, or maybe he tried to forget about her, but he couldn’t. The pain was too deep, and he had to take care of it. So, he returned.”

  “But you’re saying that now he’s done it again?” Brad said.

  “Exactly.”

  Brad whistled. “That is one nasty stepbrother.”

  “You can say that again. Do they have a picture of him by chance?” I asked. “The home, do they have any pictures we can use?”

  Brad shook his head. “They’re working on finding his old file. But twenty-two years is a long time. I’ll call the local police up in Lexington, Kentucky, too, since they should have the missing person’s report on file somewhere.”

  I nodded, satisfied. Finally, we were getting closer. With a picture, we could better our search. We might actually have a chance of getting to him, hopefully in time, before he hurt Cole.

  “Good work, Brad.”

  He grabbed his phone and walked away, dialing a number.

  “Thanks. Means a lot coming from you.”

  Chapter 50

  He was anxious to move on now. This hiding business was taking too long, too much of his precious time with the boy. Roy was biting his nails, feeling restless. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t at all the way he had planned it.

  Roy couldn’t stop thinking about Cole in the suitcase down in the basement. He kept a close eye on the deputies and FBI agents walking in and out of the hotel suite and up and down the hallways, but no one seemed to be interested in the garage anymore. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if he snuck out and went down there on his own? No one seemed to be paying much attention to him at all anyway.

  They were mostly focused on the body in the hallway by the elevators, and then the top floors that were still being searched. Maybe if he snuck down there now?

  Roy made the decision and walked toward the stairs, hoping no one would notice. All the techs were busy swiping for fingerprints and securing strands of hair from the floor. They didn’t even lift their heads as he walked by on the other side of the blockage that they had put up to keep people from destroying evidence.

  “Excuse me.”

  The voice came from behind him, and he stopped in the middle of a movement. He had his hand on the door leading to the stairwell.

  Roy froze. He turned around and spotted a young woman coming up to him, then breathed relieved.

  “I am a reporter from the NY Times; can I get a statement on the missing Cole Marshall?”

  Roy shook his head. “Not now. There’ll be a press briefing later. Besides, you shouldn’t be here.”

  “Do you know what happened?” she said and nodded toward the area in front of the elevators.

  “A cleaning lady was found dead,” Roy said.

  “Is it connected to the missing boy?”

  He tilted his head. “Really, lady, you should go downstairs with the rest of the vultures. I don’t know how you snuck up here, but you’re not allowed to be here.”

  She nodded and pulled back. Roy pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind him. He waited for a few minutes in the stairwell, making sure the reporter didn’t follow him. Then he hurried down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. This reporter woman had slowed him down, and it irritated him greatly. He only had a little time before they’d realize he was gone, and then all hell might break loose. He really wanted to get out of here with the boy before they knew he was gone.

  Roy hurried into the garage, then rushed to the door of the small electrical cabinet. He opened it and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the suitcase. He grabbed it and pulled it out, then looked around him before he peeked inside of it. The boy was still breathing and still sleeping.

  As he closed it up again, careful to make sure there still was an opening so air could come in, he thought he heard a sound. He rose to
his feet, anxiously looking around him, but he didn’t see anyone. Then he grabbed the handle of the suitcase and rolled it toward his car, opening the back with his remote.

  “Where are you going?”

  It was the voice from earlier. Terrified, he turned to look and spotted the reporter woman. She was holding up her phone like she was recording him while she approached him, her high heels tapping on the pavement.

  “What’s in the suitcase, and where are you going with it?”

  “You don’t have to worry yourself with that,” Roy said. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Really?” she said. “One might think you had something to hide.”

  Roy took a deep breath. Sweat was springing to his forehead, and he ground his teeth, annoyed. Then he eased up. He let the woman come close enough, then slammed his fist into her face. She fell to the ground with a thud, and that’s when panic erupted in him again. He thought he heard voices and footsteps approaching. He glanced at the car, then realized there was no way he’d ever make it out of the resort without being seen. Change of plans. He’d have to kill the boy here, right now.

  He walked past the knocked-out woman, then rushed toward an exit at the end of the garage, pulling the suitcase behind him. He took one flight of stairs up when a sign met him on the wall by a glass door, reading: SPA/POOL

  Chapter 51

  She couldn’t stop thinking about the backpack. It was right outside of that door. If only she could get to it, then maybe Jessica would be able to escape. If only she could get out of that door.

  If only it weren’t locked.

  Jessica did as she was told. She danced in front of the camera, the best she had learned from Nadja, terrified of being beaten—or worse—if she didn’t. She fought to keep her tears at bay and had to wipe them away from time to time. She kept thinking about Maya and wondered how she was doing back at home. Dad had to have found out that Jessica wasn’t there anymore. She knew he would take it out on Maya. She just prayed he’d be merciful.

  I should never have left. This wasn’t what was supposed to have happened at all.

  About an hour or so went by while she danced, and finally, the door was unlocked. The man with the cigarette walked inside.

  “Time to eat,” he said. “Come.”

  Relieved, Jessica left the silk sheet and her spot in front of the camera. She followed him out into the living room and into a small kitchen, where maybe ten to twelve young girls just like herself, dressed in only their underwear, were fighting over some pizza. Jessica stared at the big boxes, and the smell alone of the pizza made her realize she was starving. She hadn’t eaten anything since she was still back at her house and had dinner with her family.

  The man with the cigarette grabbed a slice and handed it to her. Some ashes from his cigarette drizzled onto the pizza when he spoke, but she still took it. She followed another girl into the living room, where she sat down on the end of a couch. Jessica scanned the area for a few seconds in the direction where she knew the backpack was and spotted it in the same place she had seen it in earlier. The seat next to it was free, so she rushed to sit there. A nasty-looking man in a chair across from her looked hungrily at her, and she tried to cover herself up as much as possible while she ate. She didn’t even look at him; all she had eyes on was the backpack. It was right next to her feet now. Her eyes scanned the room to see if anyone was watching her. Everyone seemed too occupied with eating, and some of the men were staring at the girls in their underwear so intently, they paid no attention to Jessica. She gulped down the pizza slice so fast it almost got stuck in her throat. Then she sat there for a few seconds, looking nervously around her, trying to act normal, whatever that was in this place.

  She mustered all her courage, then reached down, grabbed the backpack in her hand, and rushed for the bathroom. Panting agitatedly, she closed the door and leaned her back against it. Sweat sprang to her forehead, and she could hear her own heartbeat. Her hands felt clammy as she lifted the backpack and walked to the window, then sat on her knees to open it. She reached her hand inside and searched for the gun. Frantically, her fingers went through her clothes, her toothbrush, and even grabbed around her hairbrush, thinking it was it.

  But the gun wasn’t there.

  Who had taken it?

  “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  She turned around and saw the man with the crooked nose standing in the doorway. He was holding Dad’s gun in his hand, pointing it at her, grinning from ear to ear.

  Chapter 52

  They didn’t find anything on the top floors. The deputy in charge came back to me, shaking his head.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “It’s like they vanished. We’ve been everywhere.”

  I turned to look at Mary on the couch, hoping she hadn’t heard anything. It was devastating to have been this close, to almost have him, and then this happened? How could I explain this? We had maybe twenty men searching the resort, and yet we still couldn’t find a man with a child?

  My heart sank when fear started to rise inside of me. What if we didn’t find him? What if he managed to get away?

  The thought made my stomach churn. But the fact was, hours had passed since we found out he was in that room upstairs. Even though we were guarding the exits, he could have slipped through somehow. Chances were that he had. I just didn’t want to admit it, and I certainly didn’t want to have to tell the Marshalls.

  We messed up.

  I failed.

  The question was where Roy Hudson would take the boy.

  “Keep searching,” I said to the deputy in charge, speaking with a low voice so Mary wouldn’t hear us. “Go through every room and corner of the resort again, and then again. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

  As he walked away, I turned to look at Mary. I rubbed my face, feeling this deep anxious feeling that I couldn’t escape. Mary’s despairing eyes lingered on me, and I could tell she knew. I wanted to say something to her, but I couldn’t. There was nothing that would help at this moment. Nothing.

  Barely had the guy left me when my phone rang on my desk. I picked it up.

  “Thomas.”

  “Sheriff Blair here. I have some good news. We found Schultz.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “His car was located at an address in downtown Orlando. My men have kept an eye on the address for the past hour and just saw him step outside to take a phone call before he walked back inside of a condo at the address. They have a positive ID on the guy. No sign of the boy, but he could be inside the condo. I’ve got my men ready at the address. Should we take him in?”

  “I’ll be right there,” I said, after thinking about it for a few seconds. If Cole was there, I wanted to be there too, so I could take him to his parents right away. “Shoot me a text with the address.”

  I grabbed my gun from the table and my car keys, then looked around the room, my eyes searching.

  “Has anyone seen Brad?”

  I received nothing but shrugs and shaking heads from the agents and deputies in the room. I decided to call him on my way out, then left the hotel room, phone to my ear. When Brad hadn’t picked up as I went out into the parking lot in front of the resort and into my car, I left a message telling him where I went. I decided I could take this one alone and took off.

  Chapter 53

  He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the tiles. Jessica screamed for him to let her go. The pain shot through her body, and she was dragged into the living room, where he threw her on the floor. Seconds later, she was surrounded by several of the men, led by the Lizard.

  The man with the crooked nose lifted her head by pulling her hair, then placed the gun to her head.

  “You think you’ll get out of here, huh? You think we’ll ever let you escape?”

  “Please,” Jessica pleaded. “I’m not gonna do it again. I’ll be good.”

  The man let go of her hair, and she fell to the tiles with a relieved sigh. Then
he kicked her in her stomach. Jessica almost gagged in pain and curled up into a ball. Someone leaned down and let a series of punches rain down on her. After he was done, they took turns beating her.

  Jessica screamed at some point and lifted her head. Between their legs, she spotted Nadja. She was standing behind the men, among the other girls watching it, shaking her head like she was saying: I warned you. I told you this would happen. Why wouldn’t you listen?

  “You little whore, you will never leave this place, do you hear me?” someone said as he pulled her head up and spat in her face.

  “We own you now,” someone else said.

  “You belong to us.”

  Jessica cried, and as the punches and kicks fell, she struggled to stay conscious. A haze fell over her, and she drifted away from time to time, only to return briefly to her new world of pain before she drifted off again. She was losing time and place, and now as she lay there in deep pain, she saw someone run toward her, someone she hadn’t seen for years or even let herself think about.

  He called her name in the distance, and she felt herself smile when she saw his pretty eyes.

  I’m coming, she yelled back at him, thinking this is where she was supposed to be. I am finally coming to you.

  But he shook his head as she grabbed his hands in hers.

  Not yet. It’s not time yet.

  And then, he was gone. And so was the bright light he came with, and the sense of calmness and love.

  A kick landed on her cheek and pulled her back to reality. She tasted blood inside her mouth and spat it out on the floor. She tried to lift herself up, but someone placed a foot in her back and pressed down so that she couldn’t get up.

  “Try to run now!”

  Then she heard laughter. A fast ra-ta-ta laugh that rang in her head loudly and almost sounded like a machine gun. Through curtains of blood, she turned her eyes to look at the front door when it blasted open, and everything around her erupted in an ocean of gunfire.