What Lies Beneath

by Archer, David

  “Where’s a plug-in?” Abby asked when they got into the room. “Never mind, I found it.” She set the little TV on the table and plugged it in, then held out a hand.

  Cassie had brought the discs in when she had arrived, and had left them in a chair beside her bag. She reached over and picked them up but couldn’t tell which one had been which. She handed one to Abby, who slipped it in and hit the Play button.

  It was the right disc, the one she had watched. The scene opened up on the alleyway and they watched until the end, and Cassie heard Abby gasp. “Oh, my God,” she said softly. “Cassie, look at the blood all over her face.”

  Cassie, who was drunk enough that she wasn’t quite as affected as she had been before, nodded her head. “Mike says that’s all part of the game,” she said. “According to him, these girls like to get beat up like that.”

  “Geez, I’ve heard of masochists, but this would take the cake.” They watched for another minute, and then the second video began. Once again, Cassie saw Mike beat the woman repeatedly, and then take off the gloves and pull out the knife. As he began to draw the knife across her throat, Abby instantly jumped up to freeze the image. She got on her knees in front of the little TV and stared at the knife, then slowly turned her face toward Cassie.

  “Honey,” she said, “that doesn’t look like any fake blood I ever saw.”

  Cassie was staring as well. “It’s not,” she said. “I can tell, now. That’s real, that’s real blood.”

  Abby just looked at her, still on her knees. “Cassie,” she said, “if you’re sure that’s real blood…”

  “Then it means he lied to me, and it means that Mike is the St. Louis Ripper.”

  “Yeah,” Abby said, nodding. “That’s the only explanation.”

  Cassie was also nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “It is.”

  Tears started flowing down Cassie’s cheeks again, and her eyes took on a determined glare. She picked up her phone from where she had laid it on the bed beside her and dialed a number as Abby started to protest.

  It was too late. The call she had placed was answered, and Cassie screamed into the phone. “You liar! You freaking lied to me! You guys killed that poor girl, because you are the Ripper!”

  “Cassie…” Mike began, but Cassie ended the call and threw the phone across the room. It hit the air conditioner under the window and bounced back over to land on the floor beside the bed.

  “Cass,” Abby said, “we need to call the police. We need to turn this over to them and let them handle it. You just accused Mike of being a serial killer—I don’t think he’s going to be very happy about that, do you?”

  “I don’t care,” Cassie said. “Oh, my God, how could I have ever believed I could love a man like him?”

  She suddenly threw her hands over her eyes and began sobbing. Abby got up from the floor and sat on the bed beside her, putting her arms around her and pulling her over so that she could lean against her friend. “I know,” she said, “I know. Cassie, I’m so sorry. Just remember, he fooled everybody. We all thought he was a great guy. I never even guessed he could be a psycho like this, and I think all men are psychos.” She was rocking Cassie as they sat there, trying to comfort her in any way she could.

  Cassie kept crying, her eyes pouring tears so fast they were soaking into Abby’s clothing. Abby just held her, caressing Cassie’s face from time to time, letting her cry out her grief and heartache.

  It took almost five minutes for Cassie to get herself back under control, and then she continued to cling to Abby. Neither of them spoke, for there was nothing they could say that would make this nightmare disappear. They just sat there, each of them clinging to the other as they came to grips with a reality neither had ever been prepared to face.

  Finally, Cassie pulled away and wiped her face with her hands. “I guess we should call the police now,” she said. “Or do you think we should wait until morning? I mean, I don’t know about you, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ve been drinking. They might not take me seriously.”

  “I don’t think it would matter,” Abby said. “We’re both a little tipsy, but that video speaks for itself.”

  “But, but what if,” Cassie said, “what if Mike’s telling the truth? What if nothing really happened to that girl, and it honestly was just some kind of sex-game thing? This could ruin him if it gets out.”

  “Or maybe it will keep some other girl from going through what you went through with him. Cassie, whatever it is, this is not normal. This is not the way men should act, not ever. Come on, Cassie, you studied psychology. If he could act out like that with those girls, if he could actually hurt you, that probably means this is something he really wants to do. Do you want it on your conscience if he actually ends up murdering some girl, someday?”

  Cassie stifled a couple of sobs but then shook her head. “No, you’re right,” she said. “We’d better go ahead and call them now.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Abby said. She looked around the room for a moment, then let go of Cassie and stood up to get her phone.

  The door to the room opened suddenly, and Mike stepped in and shut it behind him. Cassie and Abby both stared at him, and at the look of rage on his face.

  “Get out of here, Mike,” Cassie screamed. “I know what you did, and I’m not going to let you do it again. I’m calling the cops, Mike. I’m going to turn that video over to them.”

  “Cassie…” Abby said, and Cassie glanced at her friend before turning her eyes back to Mike, but that was when she saw the gun in his hand. She stared at it for a moment, then looked up into his eyes.

  “I’m really sorry about this, baby,” Mike said. “But I can’t let you do that. I need you both to get up and be very quiet, and come with me.”

  “What are you doing here?” Cassie asked him suddenly. “How did you even find me?”

  He shrugged, and his face showed that he was feeling at least some kind of torment. “I’m a cop,” he said. “I can get into your credit card records, your phone records, everything. It didn’t take me long to figure out you called Abby, and then a while ago you texted her the address here, so I knew she was coming. I’ve been sitting out in the parking lot for a couple of hours, just thinking about how to handle all this, but then you called and now I don’t have any choice.”

  Chapter 10

  “My God,” Cassie said, “are you going to kill us?”

  Mike shook his head. “No,” he said, “but I’ve got to make sure you won’t tell anyone about this, not right now.” He pointed at the disc lying on the chair. “Give that to me,” he said.

  Abby glanced around at it and moved slowly, walking across the room to the chair. She picked up the disc and started to turn, but then she saw Cassie’s phone lying on the floor. It was on but had gone to the lock screen, but that meant that pushing the call button would automatically dial 911.

  She turned carefully, holding the disc up to draw Mike’s eyes toward it, and then brought her toe down on the call button. The phone vibrated, and she kicked it under the bed as she walked toward Mike and held out the DVD.

  “Just take it,” she said. “We won’t say anything—just take this and go.” From where Mike was standing, he couldn’t see the screen on the little portable TV, so he didn’t realize that another disc was already in it. Abby was hoping he would think the one she handed him was the only one they had, and that he would take it and leave.

  “I wish I could,” he said after a moment. “I know she didn’t call anybody else, but if you both said you saw the video, somebody might believe you. I need to make absolutely sure that never happens.” He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Now, both of you get up and come with me. We’re just going for a ride, a place in the country where I can leave you while I make myself disappear. You’ll only be there a couple days, and then I’ll be gone and someone will come and let you out.”

  Cassie was glaring at him. “You think we’re just going to walk out with you? Don�
�t you think the desk clerk might think that’s a little fishy, you taking two girls out of the hotel at gunpoint?”

  Mike scowled at her. “How do you think I got in here? I showed him my badge, told him I was looking for a suspect, and showed him your picture. He gave me the passkey—he’s not going to do anything to interfere. You can say whatever you want—he won’t believe it. By the time anybody figures it out, I’ll be long gone.” He forced himself to smile. “If you think about it, Cassie, this is exactly what you want. If I disappear, it won’t matter what you know. If I wanted to stick around, though…”

  Both girls could finish the thought. If Mike chose to stick around, both of them would have to be silenced.

  “Okay,” Abby said. “We’ll go. Just take it easy with that gun, okay?”

  Cassie looked at her friend and realized that Abby was right. They had no choice but to cooperate, at least at the moment. She turned and put her feet down on the floor, slipping them into her shoes as she stood.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll do this your way, I guess.”

  She started to reach for her purse, but Mike stopped her. “Just leave it,” he said. “They’ll find it and all your other stuff tomorrow, and it’ll be safe here until you come back to get it. Let’s just walk out together, nice and easy, and we’ll get into my car. I’ll take you out to a cabin I know, one that belongs to a friend of mine. All you need to do is stay there for a couple of days, and this will all be over.”

  Cassie swallowed but did as he told her to do. She and Abby linked their hands and walked out into the hallway, with Mike right behind them. He put the gun into a pocket, but kept his hand on it, and both of them knew he could draw it out in an instant if he needed to.

  They rode the elevator down to the main floor, then noticed that the desk clerk kept his eyes averted as Mike walked them out the front door. His unmarked car was sitting under the canopy, and he opened the back door and motioned for them to get in.

  Abby slid in first, and Cassie sat down beside her. Mike shut the door, and both girls began to wonder if they were going to live through the night.

  * * * * *

  “911, what is your emergency?” Betty Stevenson answered the call, but the only sounds she could hear were muffled. It sounded like a woman’s voice saying, “Just take it and go,” but she couldn’t tell if the woman was under duress.

  Then she heard another voice, a man. It was hard to make out exactly what he was saying, but she caught “a ride in the country,” and a few seconds later she heard “make myself disappear.” Her eyebrows lowered as she thought how odd these phrases sounded, and she decided it would be a good idea to have it checked out.

  She tapped a button on her computer, and the GPS location of the phone appeared on the screen. A few seconds later, the computer reported that the location matched the address of the Super 8 hotel. Betty contacted the front desk, who dispatched officers immediately, telling them to check every room if they had to.

  The squad car pulled up in front of the office less than two minutes after Mike had driven away with Abby and Cassie. When they asked the desk clerk if he had heard about any kind of problems, he told them that a police detective had gone up to room 207 a few minutes earlier and come down with two women, with whom he had driven away just moments before.

  “Who’s the detective?” asked one of the officers.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t get his name,” the clerk said. “He showed me his badge and asked me where one of the women was staying, and I gave him a key. They just left a couple minutes ago.”

  “Sounds like it’s already handled,” the second officer said. “Nothing for us here.”

  The first officer shook his head. “You know how easy it is to get hold of a badge? I’ve seen where you can buy them online, even ones that look just like a real St. Louis detective shield.” He looked at the clerk. “You got another key to that room?”

  The desk clerk nodded and quickly programmed a key card, then handed it over. The two officers got into the elevator and rode up to the second floor, then walked down the hall until they found room 207. One of them opened the door, and they stepped inside.

  “Nobody here,” the second officer said.

  The first officer looked over the room and shook his head. “Something don’t feel right,” he said. He keyed the microphone on his shoulder. “Dispatch, 5 William 17. We’re at the Super 8, and they say one of our detectives just took a couple of female suspects out of one of their rooms. We are in the room now, and it looks like all of their personal belongings are still here.”

  “5 William 17, be advised 911 is still online with the originating phone. Do you see it in the room?”

  “Negative, but let us look.” The two of them walked through the room, and then the second officer suddenly stopped and held up his hand for quiet. “Hang on,” he said, “I hear something.” A second later, he knelt down and looked under the bed, then reached in and came out with Cassie’s phone. He put it to his ear and then yanked it back. Betty Stevenson was speaking loudly, saying, “Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”

  “Hello? This is Officer Tompkins of the St. Louis PD.”

  “Officer, this is 911 operator Betty Stevenson. It’s been quiet on that line for a couple of minutes.”

  “Yeah, it looks like whoever was here is gone. Desk clerk says one of our detectives arrested them.”

  Betty hesitated, then said, “Officer, what I heard didn’t sound like an arrest.”

  “Okay,” Tompkins said. “We’re checking it out.” He disconnected the call and turned to his partner. “Lambert? 911 says it didn’t sound like somebody being arrested.”

  There was no response. Tompkins leaned around his partner to see what he was looking at and stared at the little TV screen. The images displayed a woman who had obviously been beaten and had her throat cut.

  “What the hell?” Tompkins said.

  His partner turned and looked at him. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’m sure whatever is going on here is above my pay grade.” He reached up to his microphone and called his dispatcher again, asking for detectives and crime scene investigators.

  “Is that a DVD in that thing?” Tompkins asked. “Maybe you should play it.”

  Lambert shook his head. “I’m not touching it,” he said. “You see that guy in the picture? He look familiar?”

  Tompkins looked closely, then narrowed his eyes. “Good grief,” he said, “is that Mike Kendall?”

  “Sure as hell looks like him to me. And the front desk says a detective came up to get these women.”

  “You think maybe this is all part of some investigation?” Tompkins asked.

  Lambert shook his head once again. “Ain’t no investigation that ever authorized anything like that. I’ve heard a few stories about Kendall, about him being pretty damn sadistic sometimes with his prisoners, but I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it than just rumors. We’ll let somebody higher than us figure out what to do about this.”

  * * * * *

  The drive to the cabin Mike mentioned took almost half an hour, and the girls noticed that he spent part of that time on his cell phone. The divider between the front and back seats made it difficult for them to hear what he was saying, but Cassie caught the words “knows too much” and “we just need to leave” at different points. She sat in the back seat, clutching Abby’s hand as her heart sank in her chest.

  She turned to Abby. “Abs, I’m scared,” she said softly. “I think—I think he’s planning to kill us.”

  Abby nodded once. “I know,” she whispered back. “Don’t give up hope yet, though.”

  “Oh, Abby, I’m so sorry I got you into this. I should’ve just gone to the police.”

  “Stop that,” Abby said. “You didn’t get me into anything, I drove down here on my own. But don’t give up, there may be help coming.”

  Cassie turned and stared at her. “What?”

  “Your phone,” Abby whispered. “I man
aged to call 911 on it, so hopefully they’ll send someone to check out why. They’ll get there and see Mike on that TV screen, because he doesn’t realize there was still a disc in it. Then all we have to do is hope there’s somebody smart enough to figure out what’s going on.”

  The car suddenly slowed and turned onto a gravel road, then stopped in front of a small cabin just a few minutes later. Mike got out of the car and opened the back door on the driver’s side. He had his gun in his hand and pointed at them, motioning for them to climb out.

  “The door is unlocked,” he said. “Let’s just go on inside.”

  Abby and Cassie got out of the car and walked hand in hand into the cabin. Mike followed them inside and shut the door behind him, then pointed at a pair of wooden chairs. “Set those in the middle of the floor, back-to-back,” he said. Each of the girls took one to do as he said, and then he held out some large plastic zip ties. “Hook them together,” he said.

  The girls used the zip ties to bind the backs of the chairs together, and then Mike told Abby to sit down in one of them. She did so, and then Mike handed a few more zip ties to Cassie. “Strap her in, good and tight. Don’t cut off the circulation, just make sure she can’t get loose.”

  Cassie put one around each of Abby’s wrists, binding them to the arms of the chair, then put two more around her ankles, fastening them to the legs. When she was finished, Mike grabbed her by the arm and pushed her into the other chair, then laid his gun on the floor while he strapped her in.

  “Okay, here’s the thing,” he said once they were secure. “I really never wanted you to see those videos. The problem is, it isn’t just me who could get in trouble over this. The other guy in one or two of them is on the force, too. If that tape ever got out, we’d all be screwed.”

  Cassie looked him in the eye. “So you’re not just going to leave us here,” she said. “Are you? You’re going to kill us, aren’t you?”