by S J Sargent
“How do you know that?” Peter said in an anxious panic, ignoring the big clue Alex was holding up in front of his face. “Why is he out to get me like this?”
“He’s just out to get someone.” Alex shoved the flash drive back in his pocket for safekeeping. “Two people missing. One of them dead. And the town thinks the police have no handle on the situation. If they don’t resolve this thing ASAP, this town is about to go into an uproar and take matters into their own hands.”
“They already have,” Molly interrupted. “And it’s just going to get worse now that Christine is missing.”
Alex continued. “So Bolin’s looking at anyone that has enough evidence on their name.. Even if the jury finds them innocent months down the road. He’s just looking for some type of motive.”
Peter stared at the ground. His mind began to unravel his future. If Bolin did catch him, he did have enough evidence to pin Christine’s abduction on him. Even if he was innocent, the arrest would get him kicked of business school. One semester shy of graduating. One year shy of a new career. And now possibly one hour shy of spending the rest of his life behind bars. His mind was clearly spacing out, and Molly could tell.
“Peter.” Molly got his attention again. “Did you hear what Alex said? He’s got something.”
“What is it?” Peter asked.
Alex pulled it back out and put it in Peter’s hand so he could hold it for himself. “Surveillance footage of Bruno’s. Footage Bolin conveniently never looked at, even though it was right there. He said her name was cleared, but he never even took it with him. He left it at Movie Madness. Between this and Amy’s little message she gave Molly, our suspect pool just dwindled down to just one person.”
“…who’s that?” Peter asked.
Molly looked over at Alex. “Sofia.”
34
Motive
Monday, December 20 – 3:15 P.M.
“Excuse me! Can someone please let me out of this thing?” Sofia yelled from the lonely cell at the end of the station hall. Knowing her yelling was pointless didn’t stop her. She felt completely degraded and had no problem letting the world know that. “You have no right to hold me here!”
Sofia had been locked up for the past hour with no real explanation. Two deputies showed up to her house with a warrant and asked for her to come with them. She’d barely had time to look at it before they placed their hands on her. That, of course, made her Italian blood boil. She tried to run, but only got halfway across her front lawn before one of the deputies took her to the ground. As he impolitely threw her in the back of the cop car, she dreamt up the lawsuit she was going to form against them.
“My one phone call is going to be straight to my lawyer!” she yelled again. Still no response.
Bolin had been hot on the trail for Molly, Alex, and Peter for hours now. They had been able to escape the area and get away from him on foot, even in the harsh winter conditions. Bolin was not known for his tracking skills, but three amateurs slipping out the back door and into the Pecos abyss was an all-time low for him. He couldn’t let people know about this.
He’d been interrupted earlier in the afternoon by an anonymous email tip that he gave too much credibility to, especially considering the ten-minute old email address that had been deactivated by the time he read it.
The short email had three sentences and cut right to the chase.
Amy told me last week to tell me her abductor was female. Something about an Italian restaurant. Too scared to say anything until now.
The anonymous email was Molly’s Hail Mary effort to get Bolin off their tail. She’d learned that the poor, desperate detective was starved for any lead and was eager to bite on any line that was thrown out in front of them. It worked more than she realized. Within twenty minutes, Sofia had been picked up and taken back to the police station. No questions asked. No protocol necessary.
The legal process was secondary at this point. The safety of the people trumped the protocol.
“Better safe than sorry,” Bolin told the deputies as he shipped them out to fetch Sofia. It was getting crowded as Jonathan had the other cell on the east wing of the building. When Bolin got back to the police station, he had to sit down to write down everything.
His brain was too tired to remember it. This wasn’t a simple puzzle that you just connected the pieces and got the big picture. This felt more like an elaborate escape room with far too many decoys.
Taking a deep breath and a long sip of coffee, Bolin recapped everything that had happened in the last few days. Ken’s confession, which he knew was probably false due to his drunken state and lack of supporting evidence.
Jonathan’s storage room, where he found Christine barely alive. He’d called an ambulance immediately and had her sent to the ICU. She was just short of dead when they finally got her in, but the hospital hadn’t given him an update since then.
Bolin took Jonathan in for a lengthy questioning, where Jonathan persisted that he had been framed. “Check the footage,” Jonathan said over and over again. Too tired to go back and forth with another stubborn suspect, he threw Jonathan in a cell and went back to the surveillance videos in his office.
It was then that he noticed two things.
First, Jonathan was still working late on Saturday night at the time Christine went missing. He’d lied to Bolin about that. A pixelated twelve-second clip from Bruno’s exterior camera showed Jonathan leaving his office around 11:45 p.m. that night.
Jonathan claimed that he went home for the night much earlier than that because he was out and about with friends from 8 p.m. on. When Bolin saw his car drive in and out of Bruno’s surveillance footage just short of midnight, he knew there was something more to the story.
The second thing he discovered, though, was what led him to Peter - the fact that both he and Christine walked out of Movie Madness at the exactly the same time. He’d suspected that they had some type of pre-existing relationship between the two of them, so he followed his curiosity. Contacting the cell phone company, he was able to track Peter’s location on Saturday night. And that’s when he realized that Peter had been at Christine’s apartment the night of the abduction.
So two guys were covering something up. Jonathan was currently living in a jail cell in the station. And Peter was on the run with his two coworkers.
Then came the anonymous email tip.
Bolin was confident it had been sent from Alex, the clever one of the bunch, as a nice little detour. He decided to play their game anyway and sent out two deputies to go get Sofia. Meanwhile, the detective kept warm in his office while he waited for the hospital to contact him about Christine. The snow had gotten so thick now that there was really no point of trying to run around town looking for Peter. So he sent back out to two deputies to play cat and mouse on his behalf.
Sofia kept yelling from down the hallway. She was oblivious to the fact that the only cop that could even hear her was the heavyset lady who worked the front desk. She tuned out Sofia easier than a parent tunes out their fifth crying baby. Her attention was focused on the made-for-TV Christmas movie playing in the lobby. Somehow, that was more engaging to her than the (now) five missing people around town.
“Something’s not adding up,” Bolin said to Jonathan as he wandered in front of his cell. Jonathan sat in the metal chair, arms crossed. Not nearly as emotional as Bolin in this whole situation. “Why would someone want to pin you with this? That’s what you’re claiming is happening. But why you? You have no motive.”
Jonathan didn’t respond.
“Follow me here…” Bolin started his narrative. “I’m going to assume this killer is clever because they’ve been able to remain under the radar this long. Fair enough?”
“That could just be because you’re not good at this…” Jonathan smiled, then shrugged.
Bolin narrowed his eyes. “A smart killer would only try to frame someone that has a motive. But you? You’re just a struggling insurance salesman. It
doesn’t seem like you have any connection or relationship with Christine at all. So that would be dumb to try to use you as the scapegoat. Right? Why not someone closer to Christine. Or someone that would clearly benefit from her ‘potential’ death…”
Bolin leaned off the wall and against the bars. “Unless there was some benefit to Christine’s death for you. Maybe this has nothing to do with Christine at all. Maybe it just has to do with creating the panic of the town. Most businesses do poorly when crime is high. People stay at home. Don’t want to go out to eat. Definitely aren’t going to the movies or walking around the mall when girls are going missing left and right.”
“Exactly.” Jonathan was bored. “No motive here…”
“Ah.” Bolin nodded. “But not all businesses do bad when there’s panic. Right? Certain businesses, certain industries thrive when crisis hits. Industries like…insurance.”
Jonathan looked away from Bolin for the first time.
“My brother-in-law is in insurance.” Bolin noticed his body language shifting. “Annoyingly persistent guy, but I guess that comes with the territory. He reminds me of that guy from Groundhog Day that kept trying to sell Bill Murray insurance after years of not talking to him.” Bolin laughed. “Remember that guy? Typical insurance salesman, right? He always told me that the best quarters for business were preceded by some type of crisis. Either a national panic, like 9/11, or something more local. Something that invokes fear in the citizens. The closer to home, the deeper the panic. So wouldn’t it make sense that an insurance guy like yourself would potentially benefit from this wonderful little town being all in a frenzy over some missing locals? That seems logical.”
Jonathan looked right back at Bolin. “Are you asking me if I wish I had more business?” Bolin gave a stare too obvious to need a verbal response. “Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean your little story is true. December is slow. Always has been.”
“Oh. Well, then I’m just wondering why you were working so late on a Saturday night? I mean if business really was slow, the first thing I would do is go home early on Saturday night.”
Jonathan hesitated to answer. Bolin smiled. He knew this loose thread was leading to something.
“Johnny…” Bolin paused. Jonathan didn’t look up. “Are you sure business has been slow? Or has it actually been a booming week? Because judging by the camera footage I’ve been looking at, your parking lot seemed pretty full the past few days. And if I were you, I wouldn’t want that to stop. I’d do whatever it took to make sure the town was just enough afraid to come see me so I could make things better.”
Jonathan was quick to respond. “Are you confessing something?” He smirked, more comfortable than Bolin wished.
“Tell you what, Jonathan.” Bolin crossed his arms as he stepped back. “We can do this one of two ways. You can tell me how business was this past week. Or I can walk into your office and look at your books for myself. See if I really am running down the right path here or not.”
Jonathan frowned, searching for a good answer. “Trust me. The first way will make things a lot easier for you.”
Bolin now leaned in closer, hoping that his third time asking would be the charm. “So Jonathan, let’s talk shop for a little bit. How’s business since the murder?”
35
Molly’s Escape
Monday, December 20 – 7:28 P.M.
Molly checked her watch as she shoved some clothes in her backpack. The plan was to meet back up at 7:45 behind the high school so the three of them could get out of town before the 8:00 curfew was enforced. Alex mentioned a place he knew that they could go and hide out for a few days. Anything that got her away from Pecos was the best option.
“What are you doing, Molly?” her mom asked as she clutched the doorframe of her bedroom. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s a blizzard outside.” Now she stepped into the room, standing over her backpack. Molly stepped past her to pick up her phone charger. “Molly…”
Molly threw her hands up in the air. “What is your problem? Please! Not now, Mom.”
“Um, yes now. Tell me what is going on. It is a school night. And you have two finals tomorrow. You are not leaving this house. Under any circumstance.”
Molly zipped up her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. She tried to step past her mom, who was now more aggressive in her tone.
“Molly! Do not walk out that door!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get out of here right now. I’m not safe here.” Molly turned for the door. As her hand was on the doorknob, her mom’s genuine concern stopped her.
“Not safe.” Molly’s mom repeated it, as if it were a new phrase she’d never heard. “Not safe? You’re scaring me right now. Why don’t you think you are safe, Molly?”
“Have you watched the news? Two girls missing. My boss is missing. Amy is dead.” Molly looked down to hide her tears. Her head shook against her will. “My friend is dead.”
“Friend?” Molly’s mom stepped closer to Molly, but she withdrew. “I thought you only tutored her? You never talked about her…” Molly shook her head as she wiped away tears.
“You don’t get it, Mom. This has been the most terrifying week of my entire life, and all you and dad want to talk about is school. And finals. And college admissions. And my future. That’s all you care about. As if nothing else is even happening.”
“Honey.” Molly’s mom rested her hand on Molly’s shoulder. “I had no idea you were this shaken up. You haven’t even brought it up to us. You never talk about these things with us. How were we supposed to know?”
“No idea? How did you think I felt? Do you know the terror of fearing that every drive home could be your last? Or this dreadful anxiety that someone is watching me? Following me? That’s all I’ve felt the past week.” She buried her head in her hands, hiding her face. “And yet all you and dad do is talk about my GPA as if it’s just another slow news week in Pecos!”
Molly wiped away a stream of tears, her hand holding the doorknob and ready to turn it at any sign of opposition.
“Molly.” Her mom carefully stepped towards her like a bomb squad, her hands offered in front of her as a surrender. “You know you can talk to your father and I about anything. And of course you’re safe here. This is the safest place you could be. In your home. With your family.” She stopped herself, wondering if she even believed what she was saying. Looking out the window at the snow, she shook her head. “You are not going anywhere. With all that is going on right now…all the uncertainty…”
“That’s exactly why I have to go.” Molly turned the doorknob and flung open the door. Their eyes locked in a mental game of dare-me-to. Molly’s mom stared at her unfamiliar daughter. This wasn’t the honor roll student that she she thought lived down the hall. Molly hardly ever argued with her. They hadn’t grounded her in years. There was hardly even a protocol for it. Guilt-ridden and shaky, her mom tried to reach out toward her again. Molly stepped back.
“Honey. You need to stay here. You aren’t right. I’m not sure what has gotten into you, but it is a school night and curfew starts in just a few minutes. If you leave this house, you will be grounded for the entire Christmas break.”
Molly’s eyes narrowed at her mom. Her voice lowered to a tone her mom had never heard.
“That’s better than being dead.”
With that, Molly slammed the door and bolted for her car.
36
Christine Wakes Up
Monday, December 20 – 8:58 P.M.
This room…what is this room?
As her eyesight slowly regained, Christine’s eyes raced all over her surroundings. It took a few minutes for her to see anything more than blurry lights. It’d been nearly forty-eight hours of unconsciousness. She examined her arms, which were connected to a variety of IVs.
Hospital room.
The first glance of her bruised, beaten hands caused Christine to scre
am. Except that she couldn’t. Her vocal cords were shot. She placed her hands over her throat to squeeze sound out of her mouth, but it was no help. The room was dark. No one in sight. She couldn’t even hear another person.
Am I dreaming?
Christine tried to recall her last memory. The overstimulation of the new environment was too much, though. She looked around for anything familiar. All she saw was sterile hospital equipment and a lifeless tube TV on the wall that hadn’t been turned on since the last patient watched The Price is Right.
The last thing Christine remembered was that she had closed the store with Peter and drove home in the pouring rain. Glancing outside her hospital window, she noticed that the heavy rain was now a gentle snow.
How long had she been there? What day was it?
Taking a deep breath, Christine glanced at herself through the blurry reflection on the window. Bruises all over her face. One of her eyes completely blackened. Scars all over her neck. But the most surprising part was her hair. It was almost entirely shaved off, down to a buzz cut.
Her hands rubbed her fuzzy skull as she tried to determine if she was dreaming. Hands shaking now, she felt violated. She’d never seen herself with a shaved head before. Why is my hair gone? She tried to shout out again, but it barely made it out as a raspy whisper.
“Help! I’m…anyone…”
Christine picked up the TV remote in the tray next to her. She chucked it at the door, which took all of her might. The back popped off and the batteries flew across the floor. A few moments later, she heard rumbling in the hall. A nurse raced in to see Christine staring right back at her. Each one was a little shocked to see the other. The nurse kept her eyes locked on Christine as she shouted out down the hall.