Web of Lies

by Brandilyn Collins

  Kelly’s muscles went cold. Any minute now she’d faint. No, no, I can’t be on the floor! She blinked hard, trying to clear her head.

  “Oh, relax, not all of them are poisonous. Some won’t hurt much when they bite.” He grinned. “Then again, others’ll hurt so bad, you’ll wish you were dead.”

  Tears spilled out of Kelly’s eyes. “Where’s my mom?”

  “How should I know?”

  She was safe? Then everything he said on the phone was a lie. “Please let me out; I won’t tell anyone. You won’t even have to take me anywhere. I’ll just run away and you’ll never see me again.”

  He sighed. “Wish I could do that.”

  The cell phone in his hand rang. Kelly gasped. The ring tone from home! She grabbed for it, but he yanked away. “Nuh-uh. No can do.”

  “Let me talk to my mom!”

  His mouth drew down in fake sympathy. “Aw, you think she’s worried about you? She probably doesn’t even know you’re missing.”

  Yes, she did. Mom would know. Erin would have called her by now, or Stephen or somebody. Kelly couldn’t let herself believe that no one even knew she was gone. The ringing continued. “Please let me have it.”

  “Well. Tell you what.” He smirked. “I’ll make you a little bargain . . .”

  Chapter 50

  My mind had turned to Styrofoam, airy and weightless. Clear thinking vanished; logic fled. In their place a cold, seeping fear. Please, God, I can’t stand this; let Kelly be all right! Before calling Stephen back, I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to sound like I’d fallen into a bottomless chasm.

  He answered immediately. I told him of my conversation with Blanche.

  Stephen snorted. “Like the police are going to do anything. Forget them; I’ll find her. The principal’s already put out a call over the speaker system. I’ll let you know soon as I hear anything.”

  “Okay.” See, Annie? She’s there, at school somewhere. “Good.”

  “Mom, I will take care of my sister. Call you back soon.”

  The line silenced. Within half a minute the phone rang. It was the high school principal, telling me he’d checked on Kelly just thirty minutes before she disappeared. She’d been fine. He assured me all would be well. She had to be there. They were searching the buildings for her, and the grounds . . .

  I thanked him, my voice like steel wire, and hung up.

  Milt Waking called, already alerted. I didn’t have the energy to talk to him. Jenna took the phone and told him what little we knew. He told her he’d do whatever possible to help.

  Chelsea drew her chair close to mine, her hand on my arm. I knew she was praying. Jenna hugged me hard, then paced the kitchen like a caged lion.

  Dave arrived, his face a mask of shock and dread. He’d just gotten off the phone with an hysterical Erin, who insisted Kelly wasn’t anywhere on school grounds. I pressed against his chest, shaking, seeking strength. He held me, murmuring that everything would be all right.

  More empty assurances.

  We waited. I sat again in the kitchen chair, Chelsea on one side and Dave on the other. Jenna paced and fretted. This is what all those parents have gone through, I thought. Those whose children had vanished. How did they stand it when no word came? How did they survive? Every second flattened out, every minute an eternity . . .

  The projector in my head kicked on. Out spewed scenes of Kelly

  pulled out a school building door and forced into a car . . .

  tied up, duct tape secured over her mouth . . .

  crying, dazed, praying for help . . .

  The scenes spit faster, harder, until my eyes burned and a sob rattled up my throat. And riding on that sob — sudden, clutching anger.

  How could God let this happen?

  I threw an accusing look at Chelsea. “Why doesn’t God send you a vision right now? Tell you where Kelly is?”

  She drew back, pale-cheeked, eyes full of pity. “I don’t know, Annie. I wish He would.”

  “He has to. If ever He needed to show you something, it’s now!”

  Dave pulled me to him and stroked my hair, muttering soothing words. The anger dissipated as quickly as it came, receding tide from a barren shore.

  The phone rang. Then rang again. Each time the sound jerked me up, praying to see my daughter’s cell number on the ID. But no Kelly. First Chetterling called. I pleaded with him to find her. “I don’t trust Tim. I know he’s looking for her, but he doesn’t care like you do, Ralph; he doesn’t even know Kelly.”

  “Annie, we’ll do everything, I promise you.” Underneath Chetterling’s authoritative words I could hear his fear. “We’ll bring her back to you.”

  I tried dialing Kelly again. I had to. If only to hear her recorded voice, sounding well, alive . . .

  She didn’t answer.

  Blanche called, checking to see if we’d heard anything. Then Stephen. Cops had shown up at school, he said. They’d searched everywhere. Kelly wasn’t there. “I’m leaving, Mom; no point in staying here.”

  My brain was numb. “Are you coming home?”

  “No. I’m hooking up with Milt.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’ll do something, that’s why. Forget the police. He’ll help me find Kelly.”

  “Stephen, no! You can’t be running around out there; what if something happens to you too?”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Look, I’ve already talked to Milt. I’m almost at the Building Department. I’ll call you back as soon as I know anything.”

  The line went dead. Panic hit me, clear and cold. I could not lose two children at once. I jabbed in Milt’s number. “What are you thinking? How dare you tell my son to leave school!”

  “Annie, calm down. I didn’t tell him to come; that was his own idea. Besides, I’m on to something and I could use his help. He can keep looking up things while I’m filming.”

  My fingers clenched the phone. I could not believe what I was hearing. “Forget filming, Milt; who cares about your stupid career? Just help me find my daughter!”

  Call waiting clicked in my ear. I yanked away the receiver and checked the ID.

  Kelly’s cell number.

  Chapter 51

  Kelly trembled before the man, hands fisted at her throat. Her breath came in little spurts. She could feel strands of hair caught on her wet cheeks.

  He held up her phone and tilted it back and forth, taunting her. It had stopped ringing. “Here’s what you wanted.”

  She reached for it. He snatched it away. “Not so fast.”

  Her arm hung midair. She glanced feverishly toward the door. It stood open a few inches. Could she push past him, run for it?

  “This is like jail.” His voice fell into a rough whisper. “You know, you get one phone call?”

  She eyed him.

  Something moved on her toe. She gasped, jerked her chin down to see a long-legged spider. She screamed and shook her foot hard. The spider dropped off. Terror kicked up Kelly’s throat. She had to get out of there, she had to get out! With a strangled cry she rushed the man, fighting like crazy. He cursed and dropped the phone, hands scrambling to capture her arms. She hit and kicked and tried to bite. He caught one of her wrists in a vise grip, then the other. Slammed her back against the door.

  His mouth thrust close to hers, breathing hard. His breath stank. “You’ll get out of here when I let you out, understand? It might help if you do what I tell you.”

  She shuddered, tried to fight again, but he held on tighter. Slowly Kelly’s courage trickled away. She sagged and started to cry. “Please help me, Jesus.”

  His head bounced back. Disgust and blackness rolled across his face. He glared at her and she tensed. Was he going to hit her?

  His teeth gritted. “Hope you didn’t break your phone.” Without taking his eyes from her, he scooped up the cell and flipped it open. Looked down at it. “Well, whaddya know.” Kelly slid her arms across her chest. Her back and head throbbed. The man sniffe
d. “All right, Kelly. You ready to do things my way? Or you want me to go get some more spiders?”

  Kelly. He knew her name. She swallowed, tried to find her voice. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You’re going to call your mom.”

  Hope flashed before her. “Okay.”

  “That’s more like it. But listen carefully. You’re going to say one sentence only. Is that clear?”

  She licked her lips. “Please let me just talk to her. I won’t tell her where I am.”

  He scowled. “One sentence. And it’s going to be what I tell you. Or I’m finding the most poisonous spider in here and pushing it into your face. Got it?”

  Dizziness washed over her. She managed a nod.

  “Good girl. Okay. I’m going to call her and hold the phone to your ear. Here’s what you’re going to say.” He told her the sentence. “Now. You got an auto-dial for your home number?”

  “Hit two.”

  “Good. You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here goes.” He punched the digit.

  Chapter 52

  I crushed the phone against my ear, hope soaring in my chest. “Kelly, where are you?”

  “Mom!” Her voice ran raw with terror. “He put me in the spider room!”

  Muffled noises. Click. The line fell silent.

  “No, Kelly, come back. Kelly!” I shoved to my feet. God, please, let me hear her. “Kelly!”

  Frantically I punched in her number, my heart slamming as I heard the rings. One, two, three, four, five. “Hey, this is Kelly Kingston. Leave me a — ” I jabbed off the call, tried again. Five more rings. “Hey, this is — ”

  I threw my head back, cried toward the ceiling, “She’s not answering!”

  The world spun. The spider room. No. It could not be. Kelly’s in the spider room. My mind shattered into a million pieces.

  Dave caught me, lowered me back into the chair. “Annie, tell us what she said.”

  I bent over, sucking in oxygen. Kelly’s words echoed in my ears. “She’s . . . there. Neese has her.”

  Jenna gasped. Chelsea choked no and murmured prayers. Dave’s fingers froze around my arms. “Oh, God.”

  My lungs crumpled in on themselves. I could not live with this knowledge. Any moment now I would stop breathing. Kelly trapped with spiders. Kelly hated spiders as much as I did. Had she been bitten? What did Neese want with her? Why hadn’t he taken me?

  God, help her, she’s just a kid. You can’t let him hurt her!

  Horror bubbled up in my stomach. My mental projector spun a scene of Kelly

  screaming on the floor of the darkened room, flicking away a brown spider, a black one . . .

  I crushed my forehead into my hands, fighting to turn the picture off.

  Jenna grabbed the phone and tried Kelly again. “No answer. We have to call the police.” She punched more numbers.

  A sudden thought pulled me up straight. “Wait, they can trace where she is, can’t they? She called from her cell phone — ”

  Blanche apparently answered. Jenna spoke to him, then held the receiver out to me. I forced myself to repeat Kelly’s words. Those hated, terrifying words. Are they enough for you, Tim Blanche — you, who wouldn’t listen to us? Will you finally admit the spider room exists, now that my daughter is in it? Blanche asked me questions. Had Kelly said I or we? Did I hear anyone else’s voice? “Tim, I told you everything.” My mouth answered, my brain on hold, as if I’d stepped outside my body. “What about the call — can you trace it?”

  Yes, eventually. Cell phone calls were connected through cell towers. In time they’d learn her approximate location.

  In time? We didn’t have time!

  “We’re going to do everything we can, Annie; you just hang on,” Blanche clipped. “We’ve been getting lots of leads on Neese this morning. The Sheriff’s Department is helping chase them down. We may close in on him soon.”

  God, please, You have to keep Kelly safe . . .

  I hung up the phone, a cry rattling up my throat. Dave held me, Chelsea and Jenna patting my back, my shoulder. Sick remorse washed over me and I gave in to the tears. My daughter was gone, and it wasn’t Tim Blanche’s fault. It wasn’t God’s fault. It was mine. “I should never have let her go to school,” I sobbed into Dave’s shirt. “I should have known to keep her home.”

  He soothed that I shouldn’t blame myself, but his words drowned in the flood of old guilt. Hadn’t I always let people down? Now my daughter would pay the ultimate price for my failure. Kelly, what have I done to you? “Dave, I’m an awful mother and you know it! I can’t even protect my own children. Stephen and his drugs . . . And I couldn’t keep my marriage. I never measure up, even my own father didn’t want me.”

  “Annie, Annie.” Dave cradled my head. “You know none of that’s true.”

  I balled the fabric of his shirt. “God, just bring Kelly back to me, please. I don’t need anything else, ever. Just keep Kelly safe.”

  “He will, Annie.” Chelsea’s voice sounded hoarse. “We’re going to pray for that right now. And we’re going to pray for you too. Because everything you’ve just said is a lie from Satan. It’s completely unacceptable.”

  I choked off the tears and straightened. What was I doing, collapsing like this? Kelly needed me to find her. I had to be strong.

  Chelsea’s eyes shone. She squeezed my hand. “Will you let me pray aloud for you and Kelly? Right now?”

  What else could we do? I nodded.

  She stood, gripped my shoulder. Dave laced his fingers tightly with mine.

  “Lord, we come before You in the name of Your precious Son, Jesus, to pray for Kelly’s safety. You have given us authority to come before Your throne, and oh, God — ” her words cracked — “we cling to that authority now. Please protect Kelly. Draw a guarding circle around her to keep her safe from everything in that room. And God, let her feel Your presence. Send Your comfort, Your strengthening power to keep her calm while the police search for her. Lead them to her quickly, God, we beg You. And once she’s rescued, please heal all her lingering fears . . .”

  Jenna choked and started to cry.

  Chelsea’s fingers tightened on me. She could hardly speak. “And Lord, I pray for Annie. Heal that deep, black ball of guilt and unworthiness buried inside her — the lie Satan would have her believe. Lift it up and out of her, God. Set her free.”

  When Chelsea finished, Dave prayed. I followed, begging God to save my daughter. Jenna’s breathing shuddered. When the prayers ended, she said amen with the rest of us.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to Chelsea. She nodded, tears running down her cheeks.

  I took a deep breath, trying to pull my thoughts together. “We have to call people. Milt and Stephen. Chetterling. And Dave, somebody needs to call the church so they can start a prayer chain.”

  If only Gerri Carson were in town. She’d be here now. I needed her.

  We made the calls. Again and again we tried Kelly’s number — to no avail. Her phone wasn’t even turned on anymore. Her message kicked in after the first ring.

  She’d been missing for three hours.

  How could my heart beat for the next minute? The one after that?

  We waited.

  The phone rang. I jerked, my hand flying automatically toward the receiver. The ID read, Ryan Burns. I exhaled slowly, nauseous with disappointment. “Hello, Ryan.”

  “Annie.” His voice sounded squeezed. “I’ve just heard about your daughter — they said her name’s Kelly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine . . . Look, I’m going to do whatever I can. I just got off the phone with the Police Department. I’ve put up a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for Kelly’s safe return. The police will give the news to the media right away. Somebody’s got to know something, Annie. Neese’s friends will start to talk. We will get your daughter home.”

  Tears bit my eyes. “Thank you, Ryan, so very much.”


  “You’re welcome. I’m on my way down to the police station now. I’ll ride along with one of the officers, help look for her.”

  “All right. I really do appreciate it. I can’t tell you . . .”

  “It’s okay. I have to do something.”

  I hung up, a tiny ray of hope shining. Fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money. If Neese had said one word to some friend . . .

  The seconds ticked. I fell into stillness, staring at nothing. Kelly, where are you? Can you feel me praying for you?

  The phone rang again. I snatched up the receiver. Chetterling. “Ralph, please tell me you know something!”

  “Annie, listen.” His words were hurried. “It looks like we’ve tracked Neese down to a house out in the country.”

  I gasped. “Is Kelly — ”

  “We don’t know; we’re not inside yet. I just want you to hang on. If Kelly’s in there, I’ll do everything I can to get her out. In the meantime I need to ask you to not try calling her cell phone. I know that will be hard for you. But we don’t have the number to any phone in the house yet. We only know that Neese has been using your daughter’s cell. We’ll be calling that number to try to establish contact with him and negotiate him out of there.”

  “Okay.” I could barely think. “Where’s the house?”

  He hesitated. “Is Jenna there? I should talk to her.”

  “Ralph, please.”

  “Okay, just — we got a tip that led some deputies to an address out on Boyle Road. Annie, you have to hang with me now. They found a shallow grave in the woods behind the house — it’s not Kelly. They think it’s Amy Flyte. But Neese started shooting. He’s holed up now. I’m on my way there, and so are plenty other officers and deputies.”

  The news washed over me. Kelly, a hostage in a shootout . . . Amy already dead . . .

  “What’s the house number, Ralph?”

  “Annie, I do not want you going out there. Just sit by the phone — ”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” I didn’t care that I was yelling. “It’s my daughter’s life. If you don’t give me the address, I’ll call Milt Waking. He’s probably on his way there already.”