by Mark Bentsen
“Oh, my God. Did you go to the RCMP?”
“I did. I talked to the guy in charge over there and he put out a missing-person report. He said nothing like this has ever happened in Cardston.”
“I’ve lived in this town most of my life and he’s right, I can’t remember anything like that ever happening here. It’s a safe place... so safe it’s boring.”
Luke said, “I just left the camera store and the manager is doing some stuff to help me. He seems like a pretty nice guy.”
Lauren averted her eyes and looked out the window. “Yeah, he can be nice.”
“I guess you know him? Sonny?”
“Oh, yeah,” she scoffed. “We dated in high school and college.”
“Then I guess he’s someone I can trust?”
She considered it briefly. “I guess so...”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“Our relationship didn’t end too well and we haven’t spoken in almost fifteen years.”
That shocked Luke. How could you avoid someone for fifteen years in a town this small? There was obviously some bad blood between them, but it didn’t have anything to do with his problem. Thinking about the way Sonny lost his temper talking to Bonnie, he could see how the he might be hard to get along with. Just the mention of his name seemed to strike a nerve, and she looked like there was something she wanted to say.
“That’s interesting. The reason I ask is because Bonnie had a little run-in with him over at his store in St. Mary and he seemed like a real jerk. But, when I went to his store over here, he seemed like a nice guy. He even went out of his way to stay open late and make some pictures for me. And said he was going to pass them around to some of his friends. From the way he talked, I thought he’d be a good contact here in Cardston. Am I wrong in thinking that?”
Lauren quickly backed off. “No, not at all. Sonny does know a lot of people around here. He’s a good contact. He can probably get information the police can’t.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said, and I can use all the help I can get.”
“But, when talking to him, don’t mention my name. We do everything we can to avoid each other.”
“I’ll remember that.” Luke remembered the photos and held one out to Lauren. “Would you mind putting this in your window or on your counter so people could see it?”
Lauren took it and looked at Bonnie’s picture. “She beautiful.”
“Yes, she is.”
As Luke stood and walked back to the door to leave, Lauren said, “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Luke nodded and stepped outside. On the sidewalk a young couple approached, both wearing matching t-shirts, obviously brand new, that said Glacier National Park on them. He held out the picture of Bonnie.
“This is a picture of my wife. She disappeared yesterday.” They took the photo and glanced at it. “If you see anyone that looks like her please give the police a call. The number’s there on the bottom.”
They gave him a sympathetic look as he turned and walked away.
An hour later, out of pictures, he went back to his car. He got in and leaned his head back against the headrest. What else can I do? He’d been in every business in town. Driving, he’d crisscrossed every street from east to west and north to south to the point that the residents probably wondered why he kept driving by their houses. The RCMP said they put the word out all over the province and told him now he’d just have to wait.
But wait for what? Bonnie had been gone for more than thirty hours. Did someone abduct her? Was she dead now? He pressed his fingers against his eyes holding his eyelids tight. He would not cry. Bonnie was OK. He had to believe.
At about seven, he got a burger at the diner and ate it in the car back in front of the clinic. At eleven he drove back to St. Mary.
Chapter 12
Bonnie dropped into the corner and pulled her knees up to her chest. Trails from her tears streaked her face. Across the room light reflected off tiny pieces of glass scattered across the floor from the broken picture frames. The man’s violent performance left her more terrified than she had ever been in her life.
From where she sat, she saw the notes on the floor. If she didn’t do what he said, he’d kill her. But what would she have to do? She could only imagine the worst. Why else would he lock her away and terrorize her?
Regardless of what he said, somehow, some way, she had to escape.
From the violent attack she just witnessed, she knew there was no way she could break down the door, so her only escape was through the window. She went over and looked out. The ground seemed too far but in old movies she had seen people escaping through windows by tying bed sheets together. On the shelf in the closet, she pulled out the extra set of sheets, there were two. Including the ones on the bed, that made four. If she tied them all together, she’d have about twenty feet of rope. But that would leave her dangling at least fifty feet above the ground. There were some rocky ledges on the way down and if she swung she might be able to land on one. But if she missed, she’d fall to her death. No way would that work.
Bonnie threw the sheets back in the closet and went back to the window. Maybe she could go up. If she stood in the window, she could reach the top of the outside wall, but there was nothing to hold onto to pull herself up on the roof. So, that wouldn’t work. And moving along the side of the building was not an option either because there was nowhere to stand and nothing to hold on to.
That meant there was only one way out—the door. She had to pick the lock.
Off and on for the rest of the afternoon she worked with the clothes hanger, but had no luck. As darkness fell, she stood at the window and listened to the mournful howl of the wind. When the cool air started to flow into the room Bonnie regretted breaking the window. She curled up under the blanket on the bed and tried to sleep, but the wind made the darkness come alive. Desperate to feel safe, she grabbed the blankets, sheets and pillows and retreated into the closet where she shut the door on the cold and wind and the mountain sounds.
***
In the morning she woke and stepped into the cool bedroom, bright from the morning sun. She felt better, much closer to normal that she did the day before. The alarm clock said it was almost nine. The curtains swayed in the gentle breeze and she parted them to see the blue, clear sky.
After a long night her bladder was full. She glanced over at the bucket and thought about her experience using the bucket the day before. It wasn’t all that bad, but she decided she’d hold out as long as she could.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound of a truck engine in the distance.
Oh, no, she thought. He’s coming back. A chill ran down her back when she thought about what was about to happen. Quickly, she put on her hiking boots, and when she bent to tie the laces, she noticed the broken glass from the day before.
Bonnie noticed a long pointed piece. It was at least eight inches long and looked sharp enough to pierce a hole in a tire. She pulled an old t-shirt out of the dresser and wrapped it around the wider part for a handle. Now she had a formidable weapon.
Creeping back to the window, she heard the truck getting closer. A minute later it was so close she could hear music. There hadn’t been music the day before. And this had the recurring beat of rap music. Not at all what she expected.
The sound got louder until she heard gravel crunched under the tires on the other side of the cabin as it came to a stop. Then the engine and the music fell silent. At once the truck door opened and closed, but it sounded different than the day before. Footsteps came quickly to the front door where she heard the mechanism in the door lock tumble. The door opened, and this time, closed gently.
Bonnie wiped her sweaty hand and gripped the crudely made knife. She turned it from side to side, wondering if she had the courage to use it at all. Her thoughts went to the last time she used a weapon. It was the first and last time she went deer hunting with Luke. She shot at a deer, but the animal moved j
ust when she pulled the trigger and she hit it in the throat, only wounding it. The suffering animal thrashed about, making a god awful bleating sound, and blood spurted everywhere. The animal was suffering and its obvious pain was too much. She couldn’t handle it. Luke sent her to the truck while he finished the job.
But this was different. It was her life and she had no choice. She would thrust the crudely crafted knife into the human being who said he’d kill her if she didn’t do as he said.
Focusing her attention on her visitor, she positioned herself behind the door, ready to attack, and tried to calm her shaking hands.
Beyond the door, she heard shoes squeak as they moved about in the room beyond her prison. A chair some distance away scooted across the floor. A few seconds later, squeaky shoes came to her door and a piece of yellow lined paper slid into view. Leaning closer she read:
– Are you okay?
This note was written neatly with nice penmanship, all on one line. Yesterday it was scribbled in huge, crudely printed letters that filled the entire page.
She spoke to the door. “Yes.”
On the other side of the door, it was silent. No movement, nothing. She took a chance. “I really need to go the bathroom.”
On the other side of the door, she could hear scribbling, and a few seconds later the next note slid under the door:
– There is a bucket in the closet you have to use.
“I’ve done that once. Please don’t make me do that again.”
No answer.
She waited about half a minute before asking again. “Please, I just need to go to the bathroom. I won’t try to run away.”
No answer.
“How long am I going to be in here?”
No answer.
Begging, she asked, “Can you tell me why I’m here?”
No answer.
As the weight of her situation came crashing down on her, she began to whimper. She glanced at her glass knife and knew she couldn’t use it. Quietly she put it in a dresser drawer. “Please, I don’t want to die?”
From the light that shined under the door she could tell he was still standing just outside. Another note:
– Nobody’s going to kill you.
Still crying, “Why am I here?” There was no answer and Bonnie could hear him shuffling around outside the door.
She waited, and again begged. “Could I please go to the bathroom? Please. I won’t try anything. I promise. I just want to go to the bathroom. That’s all.”
No answer. She heard him walk away, which made her cry more.
He came back to the door. In a soft voice, he said, “Okay, here’s the deal: I’ll let you go to the bathroom, but you have to do what I say. Take a pillowcase off of one of the pillows and put it over your head and I’ll take you to the bathroom.”
“Okay.”
His voice was quiet, but firm. He sounded younger than she expected.
“But, if you try anything, I’ll beat the crap out of you, gag you, and tie you up with duct tape. Do you want me to do that?”
“No. I promise I’ll do exactly what you tell me to do.”
She got one of pillowcases and put it over her head. After a quick prayer she stood in the middle of the room with her hands to her side, and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”
Bonnie heard the key unlock the door and a faint squeak when it opened. Cool air rushed past her from the broken window.
She held her breath while she waited for him to come to her. Suddenly, he loudly blurted out, “Holy shit, lady. You busted out the window.”
She cowed as he yelled at her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Expecting to be slapped or hit, she pulled her arms up in front of her face.
“Man, when he sees this he’s going to blow a gasket.”
It was obvious he was referring to the animal who had been there the day before. “I was scared and I didn’t know what to do,” she explained. “And besides that, I couldn’t put up with that nasty bucket in here so I dumped it out the window.”
“He’s gonna be pissed, I’ll tell you that.” He grabbed her by the wrist. “Come on.”
As they left the room, she put her other hand out in front of her the way one does when moving in the dark.
It felt like they stepped outside the bedroom and turned right a few steps when suddenly there was a loud noise behind her, almost like an explosion.
She gasped and pulled her hand away.
The guy grabbed her hand and said, “It’s okay. The wind just made the door slam.”
They continued another dozen steps and stopped. He moved behind her and gently grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forward a few more steps.
“Ma’am, do your business and do it fast. Keep your head covered and don’t lock the door. If you do, I’ll break the door down. You got it?”
She said okay and heard the bathroom door close behind her. Immediately, she pushed up the pillowcase and panned the room. In front of her was the toilet; to the left a prefab lavatory with cabinets on each side. The bathtub was on the right wall with a shower curtain. There was one small window above the toilet covered with thin white curtains.
Bonnie parted the curtains and saw a big red pickup with huge tires in the driveway. A long driveway went through an open meadow and disappeared into the forest about a hundred yards from the house. She tried to see the license plate but the truck was at the wrong angle. A large bush blocked her view in the other direction.
She checked the size of the window and estimated it was big enough for her to crawl through it if the glass was gone. But for now, she didn’t consider trying to escape with him pacing on the other side of the door.
When she was finished she washed her hands and splashed some water on her face.
“C’mon,” the guy said, pounding on the door.
“I’m almost done,” she said, drying her hands. She pulled the pillowcase back down over her eyes and told him she was ready.
He grabbed her arm and led her back to her prison.
Bonnie tried to get more information as they walked. “What do you want from me?”
Irritated he said, “Damn lady. Quit asking me all these questions. I’m not even supposed to talk to you.”
“But why me? Why—”
“Quit asking me questions, okay?” he demanded. “I can’t tell you anything because I don’t know anything.”
“But, how—”
“When that other guy comes back, don’t tell him I let you go to the bathroom. Just keep your mouth shut. Whatever you do, don’t try to break out of here and run away. Even if you get out, you’ll never find your way back before the bears or wolves get you. The safest thing you can do is stay here. Okay?”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“No more questions.” he said, pushing her back into the bedroom.
She knew he was put out with her but she couldn’t help but ask one more question, “When are you coming back?”
The bedroom door slammed and locked. Seconds later, she heard him go out the front door. The truck started and roared away.
As the engine sounds faded in the distance, she stood at the window and thought about him. He sounded young, like a teenager. And called her “ma’am.” He must have been there when they brought her to this cabin because he knew about the bucket.
With him, Bonnie felt safer. He gave her hope, but she was still a prisoner. And there was no doubt the worst was yet to come.
Chapter 13
“It doesn’t seem to me like they’re trying very hard and I can’t sit over here doing nothing,” Luke said to Mrs. Johnson. “I’m going to get a room in Cardston and camp out on the front door of the RCMP if I have to.”
“I’m so worried about her. Please call me and tell me when you find her.”
He nodded. She hugged him the way a mother would hug a son going off to college.
As he drove out of St. Mary, black clouds spilled over Gunsight Mountain and light rain peppered his windshield.
The closer he got to the Canadian border, the harder it rained. Luke was glad he had taken the time to put a piece of cardboard over the broken window before he left. He breezed through the border checkpoint without a problem and drove on to the RCMP Detachment Office to see if they had any news.
“Hey Luke, I’m glad you’re here,” Ernest said. “Come with me. I want you to meet Paul. He’s got some things he needs to talk to you about.”
They entered a room that was empty except for a long wooden table with two chairs on each side. A manila folder was open with half a dozen pieces of paper scattered across the table. The man at the table rose as they entered. He was average height, barrel-chested with a round face and a full head of dark hair.
“Paul Simpson,” he said, extending his hand to Luke.
His grip was firm and his smile was friendly.
Luke rounded the table and took a seat across from Paul. He noticed a long horizontal mirror on the opposite wall. Ernest closed the door and stood over by the wall.
“There are some things we need to go over,” Paul said.
Among the papers in front of him, Luke saw copies of his and Bonnie’s passports and driver’s licenses. He didn’t remember providing them.
As Paul picked through the papers, he casually asked, “Have you heard from your wife, Luke?”
Strange question, Luke thought. “No, I haven’t.”
Paul handed the missing persons report to Luke and asked him to verify all of the information. When he was finished he asked, “Is there anything else you can think of that might have happened or be important for us to know?”
“I don’t think so.”
Paul pulled out some other papers. “This is a report that says you assaulted your wife at the border crossing on Tuesday morning.”
“I did not!” Luke exclaimed, realizing immediately where they got the copies of their passports and drivers licenses. “I explained it to the officers at the border station and so did Bonnie. We accidentally ran into each other and Bonnie fell over some chairs. I certainly did not assault her.”