by Lorena May
“Where?” I feel dizzy as I reach for a pencil and the pad of paper on the island near the phone.
She speaks in a monotone. “I’m just outside town a few miles. Take Highway 2 to just outside the city limits. Turn left on Range Road 254 and drive south about five miles until you get to Beaver Flats Road. Turn right onto it and I’m about eight miles down that road. You’ll see a white mailbox. Turn in there. It’s a log cabin with a red roof. Come by yourself. Do not tell anyone where you are going. Do not call the police. If you follow these instructions implicitly your baby will live. Repeat that back to me.”
I read back the instructions I’ve written, adding, “I’ll come by myself and not tell anyone. I won’t call the police.”
The voice says, “Leave now. Do not leave behind the instructions you have just written. I am watching.”
I rip the top page from the pad, shove it in the pocket of my shorts, grab my purse and run to my car. For the first time since Cassandra disappeared I’m filled with hope. I drive by a school-yard with kids playing, and I know I will see her there one day. We’ll take her for walks and spend every waking moment with her and I’ll never let her out of my sight again. Happiness flows through me, as I drive, glancing now and then at the instructions.
When I see the big, white mailbox on a post I turn onto a narrow, winding, gravel road. It’s surrounded by trees and bush. Stopping in front of a small, neglected-looking, wood cabin I jump out of the car, slamming the door. Then I stand and look. There is no sign that anyone is there. Am I at the right place? The house is surrounded with wild grasses and brush. I walk up to the door, staring into the dusty windows, trying to see something; anything that will give me a clue as to what is going on. I take a deep breath and knock. The door opens immediately.
I feel like I’ve been punched by a fist under the ribs. The air is knocked out of me. My knees almost buckle.
There in the doorway stands Kyle, our roomer, with a big, silly smile on his face. Is this some kind of sick joke?
“You came!” he says, and he wraps me in his arms and picks me up from the ground, lifting me to the cabin floor. I don’t know what to think or say or do, so I just stand there, open-mouthed, staring at him. He moves around the room making a big production of popping the cork on a bottle of wine and pours two glasses.
“Time for a celebration,” he says, holding one out to me. I take it without really thinking and stand there holding it.
“Do you know where Cassandra is?” I ask.
“She’s safe,” he tells me. And now we can be together.” He brushes my glass with his.
I just stand there, dumbfounded. “Is she here? Where is she?”
He takes my glass and sets it on the counter. Then he moves to stand in front of me, enclosing me in his arms, clasping my buttocks in his big hands, pulling me close to him. One hand moves to the small of my back, and he kisses me hard.
I’m horrified. I pull away from him and push on his chest with both hands, almost knocking him over. “Where is my baby?” I scream.
He gives me an incredulous stare. Then his voice takes on a wheedling tone. “Baby, I did this for us. This cabin, the whole thing … it was so we could be together. Don’t you understand?” and he takes my hands in his and leads me to a bed in the corner of the room. But I balk and he has to forcibly pull me there.
“I just want my baby!” I cry, over and over again as he throws me onto the bed and stands over me.
His hands are clenched, his breathing heavy. Then he gets himself under control and says, “It’ll be okay. It’s a shock, I know. I should have told you. You’ll be okay soon.”
“Told me WHAT?” I scream at him. “Someone phoned me and told me they’d give me my baby back.”
He pulls a little device from his pocket, and he grins. “I had to disguise my voice in case you needed some in-person persuasion. And I see that you do.” He bends down, his body on top of me, and begins to kiss me. I feel his hardness pressing into me. Oh my God! Help!
I twist my head away and struggle to be free of him. He stops, and leans on one elbow, holding me with a leg and his other arm, looking down at me as I cry and wriggle and flail. Uselessly.
“I can see you need some time to think about things,” he says, finally. Climbing off the bed, he strolls over to the counter as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He fills a needle with an amber liquid. I sit and stare. Looking around I see a large room with a wood floor, a counter and a table near the door. Two small windows face the front of the cabin. There is no escape. I would have to run past him to reach the door, and I’m no match for him. Still smirking, he approaches me, holding the needle outward.
“Hate to do this, my baby, but we need to calm you down for a while. I’ll give you some time to come to your senses.” I huddle as far from him as I can, but he climbs onto the bed and moves toward me. I can smell sweat and soap; a mixture that sickens me now. Firmly, he grips my arm and shoves the needle in, injecting the fluid into me. Then he cups my chin in his hand, and kisses my deadened lips. “Just relax, Shea, my own little Shea. Just relax,” he purrs. I lay back, woozy and weak and I hardly notice as he binds my hands and feet and ties me to the bed posts.
I don’t know if he leaves the cabin or just goes somewhere I can’t see, but he is gone and I lie there thinking.
He’s crazy. Some kind of psychopath. He thinks I want this. He thinks that getting rid of Cassandra paves the way for us to be together. And I remember, with horror, all the times I cried and complained to him about how tired I was of it all. How Ben was never there and I couldn’t cope with the constant screaming. About how I didn’t think I was cut out to be a mother. I shudder, remembering that I even said, once, that I wished I’d never gotten married. That all I did was drudge housework and look after a screaming baby. And hadn’t I led him to believe I was attracted to him. Hell, I WAS attracted to him. Sometimes I’d even thought, “Why am I here? Why didn’t I marry someone understanding, always there for me, non-judgemental, more like myself - like him? But I’d never told him I loved him. Except for that one kiss, we’d never been together. I’d never led him to believe I was serious about wanting out of my marriage – out of motherhood … Had I? Yes, I probably had.
I looked at the rope binding me, and I realized if I don’t go along with what he wants, he will kill me. A man that is crazy enough to kidnap a baby, lure me out here – to a place he’s bought for me? If I don’t come around soon he’ll kill me. I saw the look in his eye.
Chapter 24
KYLE, SEPTEMBER 16, 2018
The ungrateful little bitch! Does she have any idea what I’ve gone through for her? For how long I’ve protected her? Loved her? My fucking patience is wearing thin.
I still remember the day I first saw her. At the Amberley Juvenile Detention Centre. She looked so small and scared. Big dark, purple eyes, vicious, unkempt; a tough, defiant little broad. There she was, stiff-legged, arms crossed in front of her, dragging her feet when the officers hauled her in.
Does she have any idea how many times I cracked the ribs of other kids who picked on her? Kicked the shit out of those who bullied her?
I was the one who listened to her. Watched over her. Then she didn’t even remember me when I showed up looking to rent their basement suite last year! True, I’d lost the glasses and the dark hair, but couldn’t she see that I was that guy who sat with her when she got beaten up? The guy who listened to her fuckin’ woes? The one who was always there for her?
I let her go for a while. Biggest fucking mistake of my life. (But I didn’t need a pedophile rap.) Then, when I found her again she was hooked up with that rich ass-hole. I knew that couldn’t last. Knew she’d be bored out of her skull in no time. What in the hell did she see in him? Money, I guess. So I didn’t interfere. We can all use some extra bread. I had to hand it to her. He, with all the money, married her! All the better to divorce you with, big, bad wolf!
Time for me to step back into her life. And
it couldn’t have been more perfect. And as soon as the marriage glow wore off and the baby was born she was miserable as hell. No shit! I thought. And I was the trusted confidante. I built her up, played the compassionate sap. Not my favorite role. But it’s worked. She’s crazy about me now. Not so crazy about him. I’m the good guy who understands her. Who doesn’t take her for granted and expect her to dote over a screaming kid.
She’ll come around. She’ll recognize the trouble I’ve gone to finding a good home for that baby. (And getting paid for it!) Buying her this cabin, hanging around waiting for her most of my fucking life … I know she loves me. That we’re meant for each other, even though it’s been a long, rocky road getting here.
I must admit I thought she’d be more grateful. More understanding of the situation. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to sedate her; tie her up. I was hoping she’d recognize things for what they are. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. For now.
Chapter 25
SEPTEMBER 16, 2018
Darby is scanning phone records when she receives the call. “Detective Greer speaking,” she says absently. Her voice is mechanical; distracted.
“Darby Greer?” the man’s voice is filled with panic.
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” Now her attention is on the desperate-sounding voice.
“Darby, Shea’s gone.” It’s Ben Anderson.
“Gone? Has she left you?”
“No, she’s disappeared. Abducted maybe … I don’t know. I had some work to do so I went to the office for a couple of hours. She had no plans to go anywhere. When I came home she was gone. I thought maybe she’d run to the store or something, but it’s been seven hours now and she hasn’t come back. I’ve called everyone I can think of …”
Could the same sick fuck that took her baby have taken her now? Darby felt a prickling on the back of her neck. “We’ll be right there.”
BEN MET THEM AT THE door. Every fibre of his body buzzing.
Darby placed her hands on his shoulders as if to steady him. “Okay, Ben, sit down. We’ve got some good news.”
A gush of breath escaped his lips and he followed her to the couch, staring anxiously. Mel sat in the chair opposite.
He leaned toward the anxious husband, his voice calm. “We’ve uncovered some deleted emails that your tenant, Kyle, sent. He was in touch with a couple desperate for a child, and it looks like they have paid him for your baby. Totally illegal. For some reason, unknown to us at this time, they have been unable to legally adopt so they answered his ad. He told them that he was convincing his girl-friend to give up their baby. That she’d given birth without anyone knowing about it, and that they couldn’t care for the baby. In his emails to them he said that as soon as she agreed he’d deliver the baby to them.”
“They’ve got Cassandra?” Ben gasped. “So she’s alive.” He sunk into the couch.
“We think so. We have an address and phone number, and were just about to contact you when they called. A unit of specially trained officers has been sent to their house. Your baby will be safely returned to you.”
“Ohmygod! Thank-you!” Ben stared at them through eyes brilliant with tears and hope.
Darby and Mel waited a moment for him to compose himself. There were other more urgent matters at hand now.
“But your wife is another matter,” Mel said. Darby was already peering here and there, looking for some clue as to where Shea could be. Ben sat, limp; overwhelmed as the two detectives combed his house.
“Hey! Look at this!” Darby called from the kitchen. “She’s written instructions on the pad of paper here. The imprint is not too bad.” Mel and Ben raced to the kitchen to see her rubbing a pencil across the page. “Voila!” she cried, waving the paper triumphantly. “Got it! Sounds like the place we found a deed of sale for.” Winking at Ben she cried, “For such a little girl she’s got a heavy hand! Thank Christ!”
Chapter 26
SHEA, SEPTEMBER 16, 2018
I doze and sleep and think and remember for what may be hours. Finally, I open my eyes and see his silhouette standing over me, the light from the setting sun streaming in behind him.
How did I not see it? He thinks I’ve wanted this. He thinks we can be together now. And I feel the cords digging into my wrists and ankles. My only way out is to play along. I look up and give him a small smile. “Hi, Kyle,” I murmur.
He kneels by the bed, overcome with relief to see me looking kindly at him. “Oh, Shea, you make me so happy.” And he nuzzles his head into my breast, snuffling away. “I knew you’d come around after the initial shock. He looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “I knew you’d realize I did it for us.”
I taste bile. My stomach is revolting, but I force my lips upward and close my eyes a moment. I feel him untying my hands, and I reach up to touch his cheek. “I’m sorry,” I say. My voice sounds groggy, and I feel as if I’m looking down on myself playing this phony game. “How’d you get away with it?”
He studies me a moment, as if to determine whether or not I’m sincere. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he says.
“I didn’t know …” I begin.
“No,” he says soothingly. “I knew what you wanted. I knew you wanted us. But you’re too fuckin’ honorable. I had to do it.”
What did you do? Fear twists my gut. Did you kill my baby? I force myself to appear tranquil. “What did you do, then, Kyle?” I wait impatiently for his answer, my eyes closed. I can’t bear to look at him.
“I came home from work after an appointment and the baby was crying. I searched the house for you and you were nowhere to be found. That was my chance.” His voice sounds jubilant. As if he’d performed a magnificent feat.
“Where did you take her?” I rub his arm lovingly, prodding him on.
“I was in touch with some rich dudes online. They wanted a baby but for one reason or another couldn’t get one. They offered $100 000 for her. Paid on delivery. So, Honey, we’re rich!” He looks at me, his eyes sparkling and holds his palm up. I high-five him and force a bubbly laugh. He’s really into his story now. So proud of what he’s done for us.
She’s alive! My breath catches. I’m playing for both Cassandra and myself now.
He continues, an wicked gleam in his eye. Why did I never see that before? “So I took her down to my suite and phoned them. They were thrilled. They said they’d come immediately. I met them at the gas station around the corner and the deed was done!”
My mind is clicking away. “And you wore a green trench coat?” I asked, giving him an aha look.
“I did!” he chuckles. “And later I took Diane’s key and placed it in her closet.” He snorts loudly.
“Smart man! I’ll bet they drove a cream and burgundy Lincoln,” I say, winking at him.
He gives me another high-five. “You got it, Sister!”
“And the bracelet?” I ask. “When did you put it in Ben’s car?”
His eyes are twinkling. “The next day. I had those cops so confused they didn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground.”
“Is that why you sent the note and the picture?” I ask. “To confuse them?”.
He lowers his head, and clears his throat. He’s been crowing with smugness, but now he actually looks a bit sheepish. “No, that was for you. I wanted you to accept that she was gone. I wanted you to get over it.” Then he gives me a lewd grin. “And it didn’t hurt to be there to comfort you,” and he winks at me.
I fake-a smile and purr, “That was nice.”
He unties my feet, I wiggle them to get the circulation back. Then he drapes himself alongside me on the bed. He smirks. A lopsided smile, looking deeply into my eyes. It would be charming if it wasn’t so sick. One hand idly pushes my jacket down my shoulders, and he bends to nuzzle and kiss my shoulder, my throat, my chest. With his teeth now, he pulls my halter top away from my breasts and gawps, though, in truth there’s not much to see. I suppress a shudder. I don’t think I can do this! And for how long …? I lie there,
unmoving as he pulls my top down and focuses on kissing and suckling my breasts. My nipples harden in spite of me. Oh, my treacherous body! I’m horror-stricken. Shea! How can you?
I flinch and recoil, repulsed. He’s instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie. But I’m stiff. I avert my gaze. I can no longer pretend.
His face takes on a twisted, evil look. “Are you playing me?”
I’m mute with fear. I stare up at him, “No!”
He speaks with a whiny tone. He’s feeling hard-done-by; sorry for himself! Tears spring to his eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve loved you? Do you know how hard I’ve tried? I lost track of you, and then when I found you again I went to the trouble of renting a suite from you, watching over you, waiting and waiting and waiting …
Oh my god! I remember him now. He was a social worker when I was incarcerated! That guy who stared at me – always there lurking. It’s him.
I stare at him, bug-eyed. “I do remember you. You worked at Juvie. Kyle, I’m sorry …” But he cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed. I’ve shown my hand. He is no longer fooled.
“I know you,” he snarls. “You’re playing me. Do you think I’m fuckin’ stupid? Do you think I don’t know that you’ll dump me, you cunt? That you’ll turn me in?” His face is red; contorted. He kneels over me, glaring down at me. “If I can’t have you nobody can.”
I feel the sick, oppressive crush of dread. For a moment I am frozen there on the bed, my belly roiling. Almost involuntarily my leg kicks into action, and I jab him in the groin with all my might. I’m propelled by adrenalin and as he bellows, doubling over, I twist my body to kick him again. Hard.
The room is spinning around me, and I roll off of the bed, landing crouched on the floor. He raises himself up, his face red, teeth bared, nostrils flaring and he lunges toward me. “You fuckin’ bitch!”
I scramble to my feet, and run. But I feel his nails brush the back of my leg, and I know I won’t get through the door when FLAM! It flings open. Daylight pours in and I barrel head-long into the tall, taut body of Darby Greer.