by A. Gorman
“Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve seen her?”
“Twenty-thirty minutes. I’m not sure. I’ve been chatting and drinking. If she’s not in there, I’m sure she’s probably powdering her nose.”
“Thank you, Kelly.”
“No problem,” she says before she turns back to the man she was talking to.
I march over to the restroom and wait casually outside the door, waiting to see if she comes out. After fifteen minutes, I know she’s not in there, so I return to the bar area and start asking a few people I’ve seen at the center before.
“Hello, Josh?” He’s an AmeriCorps worker that sat at the table with us at the gala.
“Hey, Patrick. How are you?”
“Well, I’m looking for Emily. Have you seen her?”
“Oh, yeah, man. She went out the back door with Victor. People normally go back there to smoke,” he says as he points to the back of the building.
“Do you know how long ago?” I rush out.
He closes his eyes briefly in thought. “About thirty minutes ago.”
“Thanks, man,” I say before I bolt.
I hurry to the hallway where the back entrance is located and slam the door open, running outside in full force. There’s no one here, but I see something lying in the middle of the alley. As I get closer, I see that it’s Emily’s purse.
Fuck.
“Hold on, Emily, I’ll find you. Even if it’s the last God damn thing I do, I will find you,” I yell out in the shaded alley.
My knees give out from under me and I fall down on pavement. The rough surface bites at my knees and palms as they slam on the weathered pavement. Anger flows through my body, causing violent shivers to take over. I gasp for air, trying to fill my burning lungs. Tears cloud my vision as my mind spins out of control. Taking deep, uneven breaths, air fills my lungs with the oxygen I need and I let it out slowly to regain control of my head and body. I need to focus so I can find Emily.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand before standing up, and I pick up Emily’s purse from the ground. My gut is telling me that Victor has a part in Emily missing from the tavern. I run back inside the bar, looking for Kelly again. She’s not at the bar and I frantically walk around trying to find her. I spot her at the table that Emily was supposed to be at and rush over to her.
“Hey. Do you know where Victor lives?” I say breathlessly.
“Yeah, but I can’t give out that information,” she slurs out.
“I think Emily is with him. I can’t call her because she left her purse.” I hold it up to show her.
“Oh. Well, let’s do it this way. You know the road the center faces?” I nod. “Go east one block. Turn left and go three blocks. Turn right at the stop sign and his house is in the middle of the block on the right,” she says slowly.
“One, three, middle?”
“Yes. Let me know what you find out. I have her belongings in my car,” she says as she pats my hand that I placed on the table to steady myself.
“Will do, thanks, Kelly.”
Hastily, I make my way out of the tavern and get into my car to the center. As I pass it, I go one block to the east and turn left, and slowly drive three blocks down. I look to the right before turning, I don’t see anything, and I turn right and pull in the driveway in front of the house. Getting out of the car, I take the steps two at a time to get to the front door, and I pound on the door and get nothing.
I walk around the house to see if I can hear or see anything and there’s nothing, no sound, no people, it’s empty. Jogging to my car, I open the passenger door to pick my phone off the seat, and it rings with a text from a number I don’t know. Shutting the door, I lean against the car and open the message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I believe I have something you want…and I know you have something I want.
All the air leaves my lungs. My hands start to shake as I type back a reply.
ME: Who is this?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Not important. 10 million in non-sequential, unmarked bills. Tomorrow. If not, Emily will make someone a nice sex slave.
Sex slave? My vision turns red, anger fills my veins.
ME: You hurt her and I’ll kill you myself.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Tsk. Tsk. You can’t touch me if you can’t find me. You will have until 6 pm tomorrow to contact me to arrange the exchange. If I don’t hear from you, she will be sold to the highest bidder at 8 pm. Goodbye, Mr. Matheson.
Fuck. My heart hammers in my chest as the blood rushes through my ears; the swooshing of the blood is all I’m able to hear. A few moments pass as reclaim control over my body. I pull my arm to throw my phone, but stop mid motion, realizing it’s the only form of communication I have with Emily’s abductor. I pound my fist on the roof of my car, instead of trying to figure out what to do next.
Damn it. Who the fuck has her?
As I go through all the options, I have been going through my mind, but I decide my first move needs to be calling Kenneth before I try anything else. I need someone that can think clearly, and I’m positive he will know what we need to do.
“Hey, Patrick? How’s it going?” he says in a jovial tone.
“Kenneth, it’s Emily. Someone has her. I got a text saying they want ten million or they are going to sell her,” I rush out.
“Slow down. What about Emily?” he asks, confused.
“Someone has abducted her,” I say, trying to slow down my racing heart.
“What?” he yells into the phone.
“Yes, and they want ten million for her.” I try not to stutter out.
“I have that much in the bank; do I need to get it?” His voice is calm.
“I don’t know. Let’s meet up so we can discuss what needs to be done.”
“Okay, where?” I can hear him talking to someone in the background.
“Meet me in the parking garage at CU Gold and we will go from there. That way we are close to the police if we want to get them involved.”
“See you there in twenty minutes,” he rushes out.
“Later.” The phone line goes dead.
I get into my car and drive straight to the office. No one should be there at this time of night, except the cleaning crew. I park in my normal parking spot in the garage, and ten minutes later, Kenneth comes pulling in with his SUV.
“I got here as quick as I could,” he says as soon as his window is down.
“You’re fine. Here are the texts I received.” I hand him my phone so he can read them for himself.
“So whoever has her, knows you well?” He looks at me for answers.
“Possibly. I think it’s Victor, the guy she worked with at the center with. I got a bad vibe about him, and I told her she needed to stay away from him.”
“If it’s him, do you think he would hurt her?” Mixed emotions flashes in his eyes, but he quickly recovers and puts his calm and collected façade back into place.
“I don’t know, honestly. This isn’t sitting well with me,” I answer honestly. “I think he will hurt her if we don’t find her soon.”
“Let’s go to the cops. I hope that they can do this without getting the media involved. Get in my vehicle and I’ll drive.”
“ Okay.” I’m numb that this is happening.
I lock up my car and get in. The drive to the police station seems like it takes hours when it’s only minutes. Kenneth pulls into spot down from the station. He reaches into the backseat to grab a baseball hat and puts it on.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
We get out of the SUV and walk into the police station. The inside is busy with activity.
“Can I help you, gentlemen,” an older officer calls out behind the wall that separates us.
“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to report a crime,” Kenneth calmly tells the officer.
“Okay, sir. Give a few moments and I’ll get someone for you,” she says before she picks up the phone. After a few moments, she hangs up. “Gentlemen, a detective will be with you
shortly.”
“Thank you,” Kenneth says. “We might want to take a seat.”
“I’m good. I can’t sit thinking about her being out there somewhere.”
I begin to pace around the small waiting room, waiting for the detective to come out and talk to us. After fifteen minutes of pacing, a short, stocky man comes to the counter.
“Gentlemen, follow me please,” he says as he unlatches the door for us to come in. He leads us to a room off the waiting area. “I’m Detective Trees. How can I help you?”
“We are fairly certain that my daughter, Emily Janes, has been abducted. He received several text messages from someone who claims to have her and wants to exchange money for her,” he states, pointing at me.
“You are?” The detective looks up at him after writing notes on his notepad.
“Kenneth Reed, her father.”
“Wait, you look familiar. Aren’t you Ken Reeves?” the detective asks a little sidetracked.
“Yes, I am, but I’m not here as him. I’m here as Emily’s father,” he straightforwardly states.
A little embarrassed, the detective gets back to his questions. “Does this guy who possible has Emily know who you are?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure he does. They worked together,” I say, making my presence known in this conversation.
“And you are?” Detective Trees smugly asks.
“Patrick Matheson, her boyfriend,” I bluntly answer.
“You’re the one who received the messages?”
“Yes, sir,” I say then slide the phone over to him.
“Mind if I take that?”
“No, do whatever you need to with it.”
“Thanks. What time did you notice she was missing?” He holds up the phone, examine the messages.
“Around six thirty. I went to meet her at a tavern because her co-workers were having a going away party for her. Today was her last day with the company. I was late meeting her because my car had two flat tires and I had to call to get it towed to the tire shop.”
“About what time was that?”
“Around four. Everything is in my call log, just look at it. I called Emily as well. I wanted to let her know that I was going to be late.”
“It’s now eight. What took you so long to come in?”
“I went to see if she was at Victor’s house but she wasn’t. Before leaving there, I received these texts. I called Kenneth to see what we should do because I didn’t want to get his name in the news unless he knew about it. Together, we decided to come here.”
“Sir, are you sure Ms. Janes and you weren’t having problems?” Rage fills me. You’re worthless. I force the voice out of my head and will myself not to slam my fists onto the table in anger.
“Detective, Emily and I are very happy. We aren’t having problems. Please, listen to what we are saying; some psychopath has my girlfriend against her will. Please find her before it’s too late.” My tone and gruffness take him back a little.
“Hold tight, gentlemen. I’m going to run everything by my chief,” he says as he picks my phone up and his notepad.
“Thank you,” Kenneth says.
Time goes by slowly and Cassandra texts Kenneth, she doesn’t know what is going on yet. As soon as we know something, he is going to call her. I get up from the worn table and pace around the room, thinking of any possible lead or piece of evidence that might give the police a direction to go.
Almost an hour later, there’s knock on the door and a younger gentleman comes in the room.
“Hello, gentlemen. I’m Chief Lauer. I went over everything that you gave the detective, and pulled up a few files that have similarities. With that said, this is what I can tell you; there is a known human trafficking ring in the area you believe where Emily is. I have a couple uniforms checking out the houses from previous cases. I’m waiting on a report on the phone number you received text messages from. Mr. Matheson, here’s your phone back.”
“Should we text him to offer him the money to lure him out of hiding?”
“No, because he could send someone else and not even have Emily with him.”
“What can we do?” I ask, wanting to get out of here and find Emily.
“Sit tight, we are working on it.”
“Please just find her,” I beg.
“We will try our damnedest.”
“Thank you, sir,” Kenneth says.
The chief leaves the room, and Kenneth calls Cassandra. When he tells her, I can hear her sob through the phone.
“Kenneth, if you need to go be with her, go,” I say as I continue to pace.
“Mike’s there with her, and they’ll come here when we have more information.”
“Okay. I’m not leaving here until they know where she is,” I bluntly state as I stand next to him.
“I’ll be right here with you,” he says as he places his hand on my arm.
I grab my phone off the table and send Addison a quick text.
ME: Hey. What are you doing?
I hit send and impatiently wait for her reply.
ADDISON: Getting ready to go home, why?
I take a deep breath and hit the phone icon next to her name to call her.
“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”
“No. Can you come to the police station?”
“Patrick! Are you okay? Is Emily okay? What aren’t you telling me?” she rushes out.
“She’s…” I take another breath. “Someone has Emily.”
“Oh, Patrick. I’ll be there in ten, fifteen minutes tops. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She hangs up.
I go to close my phone, but instead open the photo folder and look at Emily’s pictures. She’s so beautiful, inside and out. I don’t know what I’ll do if they can’t find her. With each swipe of my finger, the tightness wells up in my throat and I can’t stop the tears from falling from my eyes. I need to find her…before it’s too late.
My eyes are unable to focus in the darkness of the room; my mind is blank and unable to remember how I got here as the smell of decay and urine assault my nose. The last thing I remember is having a few drinks at the bar and talking with Victor, but after that, everything is black.
Muffled crying beside me tells me I’m not alone, but I don’t know who else is here or how many, wherever here is. I try moving my hands, but they’re bound in front of my body, as well as my legs. I close my eyes, trying to remember something about how I got here and my mind fades to Victor. Did Victor bring me here?
A loud scuffling noise in another part of the building alerts me that someone is coming. I don’t know if I should pretend to be asleep or I should say something in case it’s someone, Patrick, looking for me.
I stay quiet because I have a gut feeling I’m not going to like who this is. A blinding light from a flashlight hits my face before I have the chance to close my eyes.
“Good, you’re awake,” the voice says behind the light. “I was wondering when you’d come to.”
He flashes the light away from me, shining it on the shivering bodies around me. I gasp before I can stop myself, and he shines the light back on me.
“Yes, I knew where Tasha was all along, but I wasn’t going to tell you that. She’s worth a lot of money. Not as much as you, though,” he says as he moves the light off me and onto a table with candles on it.
“Why are you doing this, Victor,” I say as my voice shakes.
He takes something out of his pocket and walks over to the table, lighting the candles. The soft glow of the candles dimly lights the room, and my eyes slowly adjust to my surroundings.
“Because I know that Patrick will come through with the money, or your father will if he doesn’t. I figure one of them has ten million at their disposal.”
“I don’t even know what to think or say because that’s crazy!” I rush out.
“Not at all. An actor worth hundreds of millions and a CFO worth tens of millions and I have something they love and wa
nt to protect. So I’m sure I’ll get the money later today.”
“This behavior isn’t like you. What did they do you to make you this way?” He sneers with disgust at my question.
“If it wasn’t for Patrick, Emily, you would have been with me. But Patrick had to whip his money and dick out and you were all over him. Now, I’m taking something of his, money or you. Either way, I’ll get paid.”
“Victor, I don’t know how you came up with all of that. You’re a nice guy and all, but I didn’t feel the same way you did. Patrick isn’t like that at all…and I never date co-workers…”
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re here, and if something happens and the two men you depend on in your life don’t come through, I have a few bidders that would love a piece of you, and will pay top dollar.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sex slave, Emily. You will be theirs to fuck whenever they want. Mmm, what a fine lay you’ll make with your firm breasts and tight little ass.”
“Noooo! You can’t do this, Victor? Why are you punishing me?”
“You shouldn’t have turned me down, we could have been really good together,” he says as he runs his finger along my jaw and down my neck to my cleavage.
“So you’re selling all of us into sexual slavery? We aren’t yours to sell!” I yell out.
“Ah, but other countries don’t care about that. What these men care about is fresh meat. Virgin meat,” he says as he licks his lips.
“I’m not a virgin. How can you even sell me?” I glare at him, looking for answers.
“Beauty. I have a couple buyers who like your looks, and a couple of others fuck anything with a tight hole…” he trails off.
“What can I do to make you change your mind?” I plead for answers.
“End it with Patrick,” he coldly states.
I freeze in place. Not having Patrick in my life would be devastating.
“How could you even ask that of me?”
“I want him to feel the pain that I feel,” he spits out as he kneels down in front of me.
“I’m so confused. Why don’t you just keep me for yourself, then?” My head is unable to process his words, his hatred for Patrick.
“Money…that’s all you’re worth to me, now,” he sneers.