Fixing Perfect

by Therese M. Travis

  “That was Mr. Bird brought you here. Maybe you only know his first name.”

  Kerry shuddered. “I don’t want him to be the bad guy. He told me he wasn’t. He said Sam was. Only Robin said he wasn’t. But she didn’t say anything about Donovan being the bad guy.” He wiped more tears off his face with his sleeve. “I wish she told me. I get confused. She knows I get confused. She should’ve told me.” He started to cry harder. “She told me not to trust anyone but Mom and Dad. She told me, and I forgot! She knows I forget stuff. She should have told me more.”

  Jake pushed against the floor and sat up. Blood made another trail from a cut on his cheek to the corner of his mouth. Becca threw Kerry’s tissues into the corner, washed her hands in the bathroom and wiped them on her pants. She got clean tissue and gave that to Jake. After that, she got more clean tissue for Kerry. As she handed the wad to him, she felt something good bubble inside her, like she was getting to be a big girl. Mommy always said she’d grow up. It looked like she had been, even without Mommy and Daddy to help her.

  But they were there with her, anyway. Right in her middle where she kept them.

  Jake wiped the blood and smeared it almost as much as Kerry had smeared the gunk on his face. When he threw the dirty tissue in the corner, he looked like he wanted to fight someone. The look in his eyes scared her as much as Mr. Bird did. Jake wasn’t in his eyes anymore. He’d already gone off to fight whoever it was he hated, even though he started talking.

  “He’s going to kill all of us. And then he’s going to kill that other one. The one he called Robin.” His voice sounded like he’d put a paper towel roll to his mouth, and talked through that.

  “He can’t!” Kerry wailed. He wobbled again and backed up until he leaned against the wall. “He can’t kill her. He likes her.” His shoulders shook, and he wiped at his face again.

  Becca got close enough to pat his shoulder, and he gulped.

  “He takes pictures of Robin all the time, and he puts them all over his house. He told me. I even saw some of them. I saw them when he brought me here.” He put his head back, almost yelling now. “He even gave me one. Robin saw it, and I told her he gave it to me. And she didn’t say anything.”

  “Stop crying.” Jake limped closer to Kerry. He walked as bad as Kerry had when he first stumbled inside the room. “It’s gonna be OK. Just ask Becca.” He laughed and shook his head like he had something in his ears, and pointed. “What’s that thing on your leg?”

  Kerry turned pink and looked down, not at his leg, but as though Jake had made fun of him and it scared him. “It’s a brace.”

  “What’s it for?”

  Kerry frowned. “It’s to make my leg strong. ‘Cuz it’s not strong all by itself. It’s like my arm, only it has to help me walk. So it needs a brace.”

  “What’s it made of?”

  Becca picked up the empty food containers and dropped them in the pile on the corner. When they fell, some other things that were already on the pile moved and a nasty smell came up. She pinched her nose and turned her back on the trash.

  “I don’t know,” Kerry answered Jake. “It’s a brace.” He rubbed his good hand over his bad arm, circled round and round his elbow with his fingers.

  “Can I see it? Do you know how to take it off?”

  “Why?” Now Kerry edged away from Jake and his staring, crossing his bad leg behind the other one.

  Becca frowned at Jake, but he ignored her. “Look, Becca, show him the hole. Show him.”

  “Why?”

  “Just show him.” Jake turned back to Kerry. “You can’t tell him about it, OK? That—what did you call him? Donovan? You can’t tell Donovan what we’re doing or anything.”

  Kerry nodded. “I won’t tell him anything. He’s bad.”

  Becca nodded, hard.

  “Good.” Jake hunkered in front of Kerry, not close, but like he wanted to rest. “So it’s OK to show him, Becca.” He sounded very tired.

  Becca climbed onto her mattress and pulled the sheets away from the wall. The hole was bigger than a basketball now, except for some of the wood pieces that still stretched across it.

  “We’re trying to dig a hole so we can get out.” She kneeled next to it. “We used our fingernails, and our toothbrushes, but those broke.” She looked up at Kerry. “I know what Jake means! Maybe we can use your brace to dig. Then we can get out and Mr. Bird won’t be able to hurt us.”

  Kerry frowned at her for a long time. Jake straightened next to him, looking like he wanted to jump on him and take the brace off all by himself. Finally, Kerry nodded. “OK.” He sat down, his arms going in circles before he caught his balance. As soon as he had his balance, he pulled up the stretchy bottom of his sweatpants. “OK, there’s buckles. I’m not good at buckles yet. Can you do them?”

  “Yeah, I sure can.” Jake kneeled in front of Kerry, and his hands were like Becca’s daddy’s, when she scraped her knee, soft and gentle. Becca could tell Jake wanted to be especially nice to Kerry. She was glad. She liked Kerry.

  Jake pulled apart the buckles, and lifted the brace off of Kerry’s leg.

  “Will you look at that?” All three of them stared at the metal poles that stretched between the part that cupped Kerry’s knee, and the part that strapped around his foot. “Metal. Kerry, I think you just saved all our lives.”

  

  Twenty minutes later, Sam watched Donovan leave his house. He turned and spent at least a minute fumbling at the locks before sauntering toward the street. Sam edged down the hill as soon as Donovan disappeared.

  Cactus and other spiny plants gripped Sam’s jeans with tiny thorns, which broke as he slid past. Sam waited at the corner of the house, pressed flat against the wall, listening. He heard Donovan’s footsteps and when the sound faded to almost nothing, he rounded the side of the house.

  How could Donovan not suspect him? How could he walk away from the house and the kids, as though they were hidden from every eye?

  Well, two possibilities. Either the kids were secreted somewhere else, or Donovan was not the kidnapper.

  And Sam didn’t believe either of those solutions.

  So it must just be a case of supreme confidence on Donovan’s part. Please, God, don’t let him remember he’s forgotten something and come back. Please, let me find the kids. Don’t let me let them down.

  Donovan had left the porch light off, which made messing with the lock a bit of a problem. And there wasn’t just one lock, but three. A simple key lock and two inside bolts. They looked to be of different manufacturers, and for sure Sam had no clue how to break in.

  From there, he went around the side of the house to check the windows.

  Most were boarded up. Those that weren’t, were barred. Had the cops even come to check out his house? Each defense added more evidence to Sam’s theories, but as he was already positive, he didn’t need the proof. He just needed a way inside. Because he was sure those kids were there, and they were in terrible danger.

  He called Robin on his cell. “I got him to leave, but I can’t get in the house. You think you could convince Macias to send some men out here to check it out?”

  “I’ll try.” She sounded like she didn’t believe she’d have any effect on the detective, and Sam had to agree with that. Macias was so sure Sam was wrong.

  “Try Bricker.”

  “He lied about you!” Her righteous indignation on his behalf warmed something inside him and made him wish this was all behind him. That they were together, over the horror, and working on a new phase to their relationship.

  Soon. He would be with her soon.

  For now, he had to concentrate on getting the kids out of the house. “Actually, no, Bricker didn’t lie.” Sam leaned against the wall and dug through his pockets. Nothing huge and heavy like a forgotten Maglite. Not that he’d forget a monstrous flashlight, or anything else useful. Not until he was going to need it, anyway. He pulled out the penlight clipped to his keys. “That was all Macias. He wan
ted to arrest me, so he rearranged a bit of evidence to suit him.”

  “In other words, the lead detective is the one who lied.” More anger threaded her voice.

  “Well, yeah. But he had his reasons, babe. Look, I’m going to keep trying to find a way inside. You make some calls, all right?”

  “I will.”

  “And Robin?”

  “Yeah?”

  He let the pause build just a fraction of an instant. “I love you.”

  “Oh, Sam.” A choked moment passed. “I love you, too. Be safe!”

  “I plan to, but I’m more interested in getting those kids out of this house.”

  He hung up and pocketed his cell. If he had a car, he could use it like a bulldozer. A golf cart wouldn’t have the same stellar results, and besides, he didn’t want to take the time to hike down to Robin’s to fetch hers.

  He started yet another trek round the house.

  

  Now that he understood what he was meant to do, everything else faded away. It was just him and Robin. They were the only ones who mattered. The kids, Sam, all the people surrounding Robin and trying to interfere—none of them mattered. Now he knew what he had to do. He had to convince Robin.

  He had to get to her, show her what he meant. He could fix her then.

  He knew just how he’d pose her. Had it all figured out, from the first time. The first girl—Lehanie. Robin would be dancing just the same way. Maybe have a butterfly fluttering around her hair. That would be a nice touch. No kids, no one else. Just Robin and Donovan.

  His camera had a timer, he could pose her, and put himself into position for each shot.

  But he’d forgotten his camera. He had to go back now.

  He turned around, stopped, and laughed out loud. The cops would take plenty of pictures. He didn’t have to worry about it. He had everything he needed to fix Robin in his pockets.

  Robin and himself.

  Because sometimes, he forgot what the whole plan was about. He forgot how everything was meant to be about him and Robin, that Sam had never had any part in it. That had been his mistake before. He’d put Sam in the picture.

  Of course, that had all worked out, because it gave the cops even more of a reason to look at Sam. That, and the way he found the baby within minutes of Donovan dropping her off. Sam had almost caught him then, almost ruined the plan, but that had worked out, too. Donovan was glad. He wouldn’t want a baby’s death on his conscience.

  Now everything had worked out again. Everyone would be out looking for Kerry. Especially Sam. Robin couldn’t search, so she’d be home praying. Alone. Maybe her grandmother would be there. Donovan frowned. But she was old, she couldn’t do anything to stop the plans.

  Yes. Everything had worked out right. The plan was back on track. He’d have Robin, the kidnappings and killings would stop, just like she’d been praying for, so she’d be happy.

  Oh, yes. God must be smiling.

  

  Robin hung up and dialed the detective’s number. It went to voicemail.

  “Sam is up at Donovan’s, and he says it looks suspicious. He’s sure the kids are there—all three of them, and he wants you to send some men out there. Now. Please.” She added the last, and wondered if it would sound as wimpy to him as it did to her.

  Bricker’s number gave her the same option. She left Donovan’s address that time, but didn’t have any more hope. After speaking to the police dispatcher, who promised to contact “all officers involved,” she dialed Sam. His phone went to voicemail as well. “No one answers tonight. Not even you. I don’t think they’ll show up to help but I left messages. Oh, Sam, I’m scared!”

  After she hung up, she wished she hadn’t mentioned her fear. He didn’t need to worry about her on top of everything else.

  This waiting would drive her nuts. She’d experienced plenty of times in her life where she longed to have working-order legs, longed to be able to do what everyone else did with so much ease, with so little thought. Tonight, though, that longing twisted inside and left her almost in tears. She couldn’t go after Kerry. She couldn’t do a thing to back up Sam. She could sit in her room, safe in her own little house, and worry. That’s all she was good for.

  Except prayer.

  Prayer. Probably the best thing she could do. And not just her, not just gimpy Robin, but anybody—the best thing anyone could do.

  She’d just reached for her Bible when a rustle outside her window made her jump and turn. Something flickered beyond the curtains of blue beads and was gone. Why would Sam come to the window rather than the front door? She’d given him a key. Why would anyone?

  She crawled off her bed, fitted her crutches over her hands, turned off the light next to her bed, and limped to the window. The beads stirred as she brushed them away, clacking and shushing as they slid around her shoulders.

  She put her face to the glass, peering into the darkness.

  Another face grinned back, and she screamed.

  

  “I can’t walk without my brace,” Kerry said. “Don’t break it, ‘K?”

  Jake looked up, his brows wrinkled in concentration. “I’ll try. It’s not plastic, so it’ll hold up better than all the stuff we broke. But we have to get out. You get that, right?” His hand tightened on the metal pole. “If we don’t get out, that guy is gonna kill all three of us and go after Robin.” He shoved the end of the brace back into the hole. “And then it won’t matter if you can walk or not.”

  “Yeah.” Kerry’s face crumpled, and Becca knelt next to him and patted his shoulder. She’d never met someone bigger than her who cried more. But she still liked him.

  “Mr. Bird talked about Robin all the time,” she said. Kerry just turned to look at her. “He really likes her. He said she has black feathers and pretty blue eyes. I never knew a bird who had blue eyes.”

  Kerry laughed. “Not feathers, silly. She’s not a bird. She’s a person. She has black hair. It’s real long and when we play baseball she has to put it in her hat, or tie it up.”

  “Does Mr. Bird play baseball with you?”

  “No. He watches and takes pictures.” He leaned forward to see what Jake was doing. “That’s a big hole.”

  “Yeah, and we don’t want him to know it’s here. So we hide it. Don’t tell him if he comes back, OK?”

  “‘K.” Kerry scooted off the mattress and crawled, like a crab on its back, toward Becca’s mattress. “Can I help?”

  “You are helping. You’re letting me use this.” Jake sat back, panting, and waved the brace. Already the end of it was covered with white dust. “I’m making the hole really big, all the way through to the outside, and then I’m gonna try to break some of the wood with this.”

  After that, Becca and Kerry didn’t talk much. Neither did Jake, although he grunted a lot every time he shoved the pole of the brace between the strips of wood and pulled. After a couple minutes, one piece of wood cracked, splintered, and fell onto Becca’s pillow. Jake shouted, not with any words, but with triumph, and jammed the pole in again. The next board broke, and the brace pole came away bent.

  Becca glanced at Kerry. He frowned hard at Jake, but he didn’t say anything.

  After the third strip of wood broke, Jake turned the brace around and jammed it into the outside of the wall.

  It took a lot longer than Becca thought it had to. She started to count, first in her head, but it wasn’t enough and she had to count out loud. And when she got to six and couldn’t remember how to go any higher, Kerry kept on counting for her.

  He got up to twenty-two when Jake let out another shout. After that, things got crazy. Jake threw the bent up brace behind him and got right down on the floor. He punched at the wall, and for the first time in weeks, Becca smelled outside air.

  She wanted to put her face right up to it and breathe, because it smelled so much better than the trash and dirty bathroom smells from inside the room. There wasn’t any sun, though. She’d missed the sun so much,
and now it was still gone. Maybe Mr. Bird had made it go away forever.

  “Hey!” Jake screamed, with his face right up to the hole. “Hey, we’re in here! Let us out! The new kid’s here, too, that Kerry! Let us out!” He stopped yelling and waited.

  No one answered.

  Jake jumped up. “Becca, you gotta squeeze through the hole and find someone to help us. I’ll keep trying to break through the wall, but I can’t fit right now. I think you can.”

  Becca dropped to her knees next to him. Now that she had to try to crawl through, the hole looked tiny.

  Jake said, “I’m gonna hold the back of your head so nothing pulls your hair, OK?” He squatted next to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You can do it, right? You can get out. And you gotta run as fast as you can and get somebody to come here. Don’t call him Mr. Bird, either. Call him Donovan. No one out there knows who Mr. Bird is.”

  Something inside her chest kept banging. She was so scared. That was her heart, right? She’d never remember what Jake told her. But he didn’t give her a chance to ask him to say it all over again, so she could get it right.

  He pulled her toward the hole, and punched at the wall a few more times. His hands were covered with white dust, mixed with blood. She didn’t want to bleed to get out of the room, but maybe she had to. Maybe it was OK, anyway. After all, Jake was bleeding to get her out, wasn’t he?

  Just before she lay down to wriggle through, she remembered something. She grabbed Jake’s face. “See? I told you God would get us out. I told you He’d send someone to help us. And He did! He sent us Kerry!”

  Becca made herself as skinny as a snake, and stuck her head through the hole in the wall.

  

  Glass shattered and spilled over the sill. Some of it sparkled toward the floor, and Robin flailed back, nearly falling. She only caught herself up by grabbing onto the sewing table.

  A second later Donovan jerked the window open.