Shatterproof

by Jo Chambliss

  Fully in sheriff mode, Mike tells me to go over what happened again. “I want everything. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how irrelevant or insignificant it might seem.”

  I tell them about taking the back roads just for the hell of it. I even tell them about how I revved my engine just so he’d get calls.

  “I was at home asleep, you prick,” he complains.

  Any other time, the deputies would be laughing at me for baiting my friend, but there’s nothing funny about tonight.

  When I get to the part about seeing a glowing figure in the road, Mike begins scribbling furiously on his notepad despite recording the conversation on his phone.

  By the time I’ve reached the point where I met him at Doc Miller’s office, Thomas has returned with a snack for Ari, who’s still sleeping against my chest. “You owe Luther five bucks. I used our key to get into his gas station across the street.” He lays down a bottle of apple juice and goldfish crackers.

  “They didn’t have any milk?”

  “Well, yeah, Chris, but you don’t know this kid. For all you know, she may be lactose intolerant. There isn’t a kid alive allergic to apple juice.”

  My lips press into a thin line. How the hell this guy knows anything about kids amazes me. He looks barely old enough to shave. Still, I wouldn’t have thought anything about food allergies and offer him my genuine thanks.

  I look down at Ari’s tiny cheeks and nose and brush the white-blond hair off her face. “Ari… Ari, wake up. We’re at the police station so the sheriff can start looking for your mama.” She opens her eyes and blinks a few times and then lifts her head to look around.

  Seeing the men in uniform with their gleaming badges, she sits up fully. “Ari, are you hungry?” I point to the juice and crackers, and she nods.

  She quickly downs half the juice before she starts nibbling on the crackers. When she’s had enough, she lays back down, still traumatized and exhausted. I hate to do it, but we’ve got to try to get some information from her. I wake her up again and turn her to the side on my lap.

  “Ari, these policemen are going to look for your mom, but we need your help.”

  She reaches up to rub her eyes. “Ok.”

  I assume Mike’s going to question her now, but he slides a notepad full of questions over to me instead. Gesturing with his head, he gives me a go-ahead signal. Inclining my head to show I understand, I begin going down his list.

  “Ari, can you tell me your Mom’s name?”

  “Ms. Mason always calls her Willa.”

  Next on the list is, “Can you tell me your whole name?”

  “Eden Ariel Westbrook.” She opens her mouth with a huge yawn as I look back at the notepad.

  Mike’s next question makes me feel like an idiot. I hadn’t even thought about her father. What did you think, Chris? That she’s a little lost puppy without a family?

  Making myself focus again, I force the words from my mouth, “Ari, where is your daddy?”

  “He lives Far Away. Mama said I was a baby when we moved here.”

  “You’re doing good, Ari. Does your mama have the same last name as you?” When her brow furrows, I try again another way, “Is your mama’s name Willa Westbrook?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Mike looks to one of the younger deputies, who takes off to pull information on Willa, and I look at the next question on the list. “Ari, where is your mama?”

  “She’s with the bad man in the woods.”

  Mike takes the pad back and scribbles a follow-up. “Do you know the bad man?”

  With a shake of her head, she answers, “No, he’s a stranger.”

  More scribbling. “Where did you first see this stranger?”

  “At the stupermarken.”

  “You mean the supermarket?”

  “Uh huh.”

  The pad reads, ask her to describe. “Ari, which supermarket? Can you tell me what it looks like?”

  “It has a fire engine. I wanted to ride it, but mama said it’s too cold.”

  It’s immediately obvious that the men around the table know the place, but no one moves.

  I refer to the notepad again. Mom’s car. “Ari, does your mom have a car?”

  “It’s red. I have a princess booster seat. Mama got upset with me when I rode my bike too close and got a big scratch on the side.”

  I don’t need prompting to know what to ask next. “Did you and your mama drive to the supermarket in her red car?”

  “Uh huh, but the bad man took us away in his van.”

  At that, all but Blake and Mike take off, undoubtedly, to find the car and look into the van via security video at the grocery store.

  Mike writes something more on the notepad. “Ari, where did the bad man take you?”

  “A house made of trees.”

  “Do you mean like a cabin made of logs?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did the bad man say anything or do anything?”

  “He took off our clothes and put pajamas on us.”

  “Pajamas… this nightgown you’re wearing?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Mike makes a get up and spin motion. “Ari, can you stand up so that I can see the nightgown?”

  She stands but retains the death grip on my hand. I study the gown along with Mike and Blake, but I know shit about kid’s clothes. Except for the stray twig caught in the strange cotton lace and the dirt at the knees where she must have fallen, it’s pristine.

  “It looks expensive,” from Mike. Blake says, “My sister dressed her kids up in this kind of thing for Easter. You know Viv. If she’s going to own it, it’s going to be expensive.”

  A man that kidnaps and dresses his victims. I don’t like where this is heading.

  Mike taps me on the shoulder and points to the notepad again. “Ari, what can you tell me about the bad man?”

  “He had on a mask.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “It was all white.”

  I look up at Mike; he seems to be considering something. A moment later, he scribbles something down on the pad and slides it again. “Ari, how did you get out of the cabin?”

  “He made me go outside to play hide and seek. He said mama would count, then he would come find me. Mama told me to run, but it hurt my feet without shoes.”

  Mike makes a cutting gesture and picks up his phone. A few seconds later, Michele walks into the room. She’s here to take Ari.

  Remembering what Mel said, I have to be careful here. “Ari, this is my friend Michele. She’s Sheriff Mike’s wife. She wants to take you to her house and let you sleep in a warm bed while I go find your mama. If you go with Michele, it’ll help me find her faster. Can you do that for me?”

  She latches back onto me again, and I’m struck by the blind trust that this little girl has placed in me, a total stranger.

  I keep my voice gentle but firm when I press her, “Ari, I need to go find your mom, and I can’t do that if you don’t go with Michele. Can you be a brave girl and do that?” Ari nods her head even as her eyes spill over with tears.

  That stone that had been cracked open by this girl just completely crumbled. Righting her world has just become the most important mission of my life. I’m going to help this child and her mother if it’s the last thing I do.

  Chapter 2

  Chris

  It was hard watching Michele take Ari’s hand and lead her away. Seeing her walk out that door felt like a part of me was leaving, and I didn’t want to let her go. Reminding myself that the situation is critical and necessary to fixing her world made it easier for me to pull my eyes from the now-closed door and focus on the task before us.

  As soon as I turn back to the table, we get to work with urgency. Everything we’ve learned from Ari points to something sinister, meaning we probably don’t have a lot of time.

  The table gets cleared, and Mike pulls out a map of the area. Calling up the screenshot I took of my phone, I’m able to point out the exa
ct location I called him from. I follow the road around the curve and estimate where I first saw Ari. “It should be easy to find as there’ll be tire marks and other signs of the crash.”

  “Where do you estimate the shot came from?”

  “Given the curve of the road here and here,” I muse while pointing to the map, “It would have had to come from around this area. The forest is pretty dense here, so the shooter couldn’t have been too deep in the woods. Mike, what structures are in this area?”

  “There are three cabins there. The Wexler’s place, one empty cabin for sale, and the Shultz cabin. I know the Wexlers. Mae is in the hospital after having hip surgery, so there’s nobody home there. You know Brian Shultz.”

  “Yeah. Two hundred years old, mean, blind, and deaf, but still drives like Mario Andretti.”

  Mike addresses his deputies, “Ok, team, we’ve got three good targets to start from. I want you in vests and helmets. Let’s go.” Turning to me, he adds, “I won’t waste my breath reminding you that you don’t work here and shouldn’t go but…”

  Harry, the young black deputy, comes rushing into the room, interrupting what would have been a wasted lecture. “Sheriff, we got the car. It was right where the girl said. Mac from Wrecked is towing it in now. There are groceries in the back seat and a purse in the front. The car wasn’t locked, but I didn’t open the door.”

  “Good work, Wiler. Dust the handles and use gloves to retrieve the purse. Has Will learned anything about the woman?”

  “No, sir. He can’t find a Willa Westbrook.”

  Mike waves off the man’s worry. “It’s possible the child was confused by the question. Either way, we’ll know when we find and run her ID.”

  Harry leaves just as fast to complete his next task, and Mike turns back to me. “I was saying that there’s no point in reminding you that you are not a cop. The only reason I’m going to let you go with us is because you’re also not a civilian. Given your particular military experience, you’re probably as well equipped or better to deal with this situation. Still, you’re going to stay in the car until and unless I summon you.”

  His tone leaves no room for argument, and since I told Ari I was going to look for her mom, I have to play by Mike’s rules. I nod to show I accept his terms, and he tosses me a Kevlar vest. “The only exception is if he runs. Then, you can consider yourself deputized.”

  Armed with pistols and rifles, the group loads into two cruisers. In the first car are Mike, Blake, and me. The second car has Thomas and one deputy I’m not familiar with. We rush off without sirens toward the cabins on Powel Mountain Road. Three hundred yards back from the first cabin, Mike cuts his lights, and the second car does as well.

  Fifty yards from the Wexlers’ cabin, Mike stops, and everyone files out and gathers around the hood. “We go in quiet. I don’t want to spook this guy. Blake, you and Thomas take the Wexlers’ place. Brody and I will check the vacant cabin. Once we clear those, we’ll check the Shultz place together. Chris, remember what I said. You sit in this car and monitor the radio.”

  That’s the last place I need to be, and Mike knows it, but he can’t justify my involvement without advertising that I’m part of Naval Special Forces. If he did that, he might as well have put a blinking sign on my head reading SEAL.

  The two teams split up and leave to check the cabins. Being remanded in the car goes against my training, and I sit here agitated, waiting for reports from the property searches.

  Only a couple of minutes pass before the first cabin checks out. “Sheriff, the Wexlers’ place is all clear. The leaves on the driveway haven’t been disturbed, and we can see into all the rooms in the cabin from outside.”

  “Copy. Move back toward Chris and wait for us at the end of Shultz’s drive.”

  “Ten-four.”

  Mike had farther to go, but he should be coming up on the empty cabin soon. Just as Blake and Thomas reach Mike’s cruiser, his voice can be heard over the radio. “Dispatch, this is Sheriff Hudson. Send an ambulance to one-oh-two Mountain Powell Road..”

  The two deputies and I exchange looks and then take off in the direction of the middle cabin. We haven’t even made it to the driveway before Mike is barking orders again. “Blake, keep your team and Chris back. We’ve got a scene here, and I don’t want to screw with it any more than we already have.”

  Blake keys his shoulder mike, “How is the mother?”

  “She’s alive.” That he won’t say any more, says a whole hell of a lot. Apologetically, Blake orders me back to the car. It’s all I can do to bite my tongue and do what I’m told.

  By the time the ambulance arrives, Blake has marked the tracks left by the suspect and marked a path of safe travel for the EMTs and deputies. I take this to mean I can follow the gurney to the house.

  Nearing the small cabin, Thomas is just finishing up dusting for prints on the doorknob before they can be destroyed. Blake is rushing to take pictures of the scene since the live victim will need immediate transport based on the amount of blood on and around her.

  The EMTs open the door Thomas has just finished dusting, but are asked to put booties on and not roll the gurney in. They do as ordered and carry the backboard into the small living area.

  I watch the scene as they carefully cut Willa’s restraints and place her on the board. The white gown she’s wearing is similar to Ari’s but is cut to ribbons and stained crimson. Seeing the torture inflicted on this woman makes my blood boil. I’m gonna find and kill this son of a bitch.

  Forcing myself to reign in my temper, I study the carnage. For all the damage visible, there are no injuries to her face, neck or chest area.

  The medics check her vital signs and quickly run an IV to replace fluids before strapping her down. Just as quickly, they carry her outside and transfer her to the gurney.

  As they walk past, I get a clear look at the woman’s face. Ariel favors her mother. They have the same cheeks and nose, but I don’t know what color her eyes are since they’re closed. The main difference is that Willa has light brown hair instead of blond.

  I watch helplessly as the EMTs push the gurney down the long driveway toward their truck. In no time, the ambulance pulls away to get the woman much-needed help.

  “It looks like your appearance tonight interrupted his plans.”

  I turn at the remark from my friend, but Mike has already resumed collecting evidence. Watching him, I’m torn in three different directions.

  Part of me wants to be with the woman in case this asshole tries to finish what he started. I want to check on Ari for the same reason. The rest of me wants to stay here and figure out who this bastard is so I can find him and rip his head off.

  Sensing my growing irritation, Mike pulls out his phone and makes a call. “How’s Ariel?”

  He listens for a moment, replaces his phone, and looks up at me through the door. “Ari is upset and keeps asking for her mama and you.” Reading my torn look, he adds, “Look, you can’t be here anyway. I have to protect the scene and chain of evidence. You can’t help here, but you can help that little girl.”

  Knowing he’s gotten to me, he pulls out his keys and tosses them my way. “Take the squad car back to the station and check in with Harry. I want him to take you and the kid to the hospital. I want Harry to talk to Willa, but I’m guessing we won’t get anything out of her until she sees her daughter.”

  Walking out the door, I look down at my watch for the first time since all this started. I can’t believe all this has taken place in less than sixty minutes.

  Five Hours Ago

  Willa

  “Mama, I’m sleepy.”

  “I know, baby, but we don’t have any pop-tarts, and you’re not exactly agreeable when your morning gets messed up.”

  “What’s agreeable?”

  “Hmm. Agreeable is when you’re listening and not throwing a fit. Disagreeable is when you act like the neighbor’s dog Boozer.” She scrunches up her nose but seems to get the comparison. I load
a yawning Ari into her booster seat and buckle myself in.

  I hate bringing her out late like this, but work ran late, I had to pick up dinner, get her to dance class by six, and stop by the store on the way home. The most frustrating part was getting home only to realize I had forgotten the pop-tarts.

  So, here we are again after nine pm, trying to avoid a Saturday morning disaster. Saturdays are my one day to sleep in. On Saturdays, Ari gets to have her favorite breakfast and sit down to watch cartoons. And, she gets to feel like a big girl because she can do it by herself. There’s no way I’m ruining that for either of us.

  On our way out of the store, Ari asks if she can ride the fire truck ride. She’s devastated like a four-year-old can be when I tell her it’s too cold.”

  She pouts for a while and I make a peace offering, “How about this, even though it’s late, we’ll cuddle up in my bed and watch a movie. Sound good?”

  She claps her hands excitedly. “Onward?”

  Inwardly, I groan but put on a happy face. “Sure, baby.” Fortunately, she’ll be asleep in minutes, and I can turn off the annoying film and move her to her own bed.

  Nearing the car, I switch my purse and bag of groceries to the other hand so I can reach in my pocket for my keys. The car flashes, and I notice the white minivan parked next to us. Seeing it there makes me chuckle. Looks like I’m not the only super mom here tonight. I drop my purse in the front seat and turn to put the groceries and Ari in the back.

  When I turn fully around, I see every parent’s worst nightmare. A man wearing a blank, white mask is holding a knife to Ari’s throat. A raspy voice says, “Keep your mouth shut and get in the van, or I slit her throat.”

  Oh god.

  If our roles were reversed, I’d yell at Ari to run and turn to fight the attacker. Since he’s got her and I’m free, getting in the van is my only option. I won’t risk calling his bluff.