Incisions

by Barbara Winkes

  “There’s someone I’d like to talk to,” she said, picking up the phone. “Hey, Kate, this is Jordan. I wonder if you can tell me what happened to Rhonda?”

  “Rhonda?” Kate asked, surprised. “You don’t think she had anything to do with…no. She wasn’t so great, leaving Ellie hanging with the rent of that place, but I don’t think she’d hurt her.”

  “How long had they been living together?”

  “About three years. They moved into the place after we all graduated from the academy.”

  “Rhonda is a cop?”

  “No, she’s in retail. The friend of a high school friend. She and Ellie met at a birthday party, and they were both looking for a place in town. Her name is Rhonda Marks. She hung around a bit after Ellie was attacked, but they had already separated by then. I think she’s still in town, but like I said…”

  “I’d like to talk to her anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, not at all,” Kate hurried to say. “See you later.”

  “I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” Derek told her after she’d laid out that last bit of information to him. “The girl moved out. She came to the hospital that one time, but that’s it. Looks like she moved on.”

  “Yeah, well, she didn’t move all that far away. She works in a boutique five blocks from Ellie’s apartment. If anything, she could have sent the messages, watched Ellie—and if that’s all she did, maybe she did see our guy.”

  “It’s worth checking out,” he agreed. “I need to check on something. You’ll come back here after?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you eaten today?”

  There was a good explanation for her headache, and the rumbling stomach.

  “I’ll grab something on the way. Later.”

  The rush our traffic almost doubled the length of her drive to about half an hour, and it took her another ten minutes to find parking. Too much caffeine on an empty stomach made her heart beat an uncomfortable rhythm, and with that came once again the memories. Ten minutes in Darby’s basement had felt like an eternity, and she’d spent much longer than that.

  She had survived.

  Whatever was going on here, Ellie would, too.

  She tried to ignore the smell of food coming from restaurants getting ready for the evening crowd, and stepped into the spacious boutique where Rhonda Marks was still at work.

  Jordan recognized her right away from the DMV photo. There were reddish highlights in her long dark hair now, and she wore high heels that put her on eye level with Jordan who shuddered at the thought of a workday in shoes like this.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a sweet, but slightly puzzled tone. Jordan didn’t blame her. She certainly wasn’t Marks’ usual clientele.

  “I hope so. I’m Detective Carpenter.”

  Rhonda’s eyes widened at the sight of the badge in front of her, then she laughed nervously.

  “Detective? That sounds serious. Am I in trouble?”

  “When was the last time you saw Ellie Harding?”

  “A while ago. Couple months? I went to see her in the hospital after she got beaten up by that creep. Don’t tell me something else happened to her. The girl really attracts trouble.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Rhonda looked alarmed all of a sudden. “Forget I said that. She’s a cop, right, around weird people all day. Things are bound to happen.”

  “Like what?”

  Jordan stepped a bit closer into the woman’s personal space, trying to tell herself that this had nothing to do with the fact that Rhonda had been Ellie’s lover. She had absolutely no talking room when it came to interfering exes. Except Rhonda hadn’t interfered in anything—or had she?

  “I don’t know. She told me some strange stories when we were still living together, nothing too detailed, of course, but…yeah, you don’t really know people. Anyway. I need to close here in a bit. What’s going on with Ellie?”

  “Did you send her any text messages lately?”

  “Me? No, why would I? We broke up. I moved out.”

  “You were seeing someone else?”

  “We are closed,” Rhonda snapped at the customer peeking inside and turned the sign in the door. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else at the moment. Ellie and I didn’t work out, that’s all there is to the story. I still don’t understand why you’re asking me all these questions.”

  “Ellie was taken from her apartment last night. We’re trying to figure out if someone threatened her, and whom she might have told.”

  Rhonda stared at her, as if in shock, for almost a full minute. Jordan could sympathize—she’d been feeling the same way since she walked into Ellie’s apartment earlier today.

  “Just to quickly rule this out, where were you last night?”

  “Out with friends, I can give you their names. I swear I haven’t talked to Ellie since the day at the hospital. She was almost ready to be released, she said she didn’t need anything, and I didn’t have to come to the house. I think she was still somewhat pissed at me, but…Oh God. Are you sure she was kidnapped? Did they send a ransom?”

  Jordan shook her head.

  “If you remember anything, maybe from those stories Ellie mentioned, please call me, day or night. Thank you for your time, Ms. Marks.”

  “No problem. Wow. Poor Ellie. This sucks.”

  Jordan couldn’t agree more. She went back to her car, thinking that Kate was probably right. Whoever had Ellie, it probably wasn’t Branson or Marks—and they were safe as long as the police were running around in circles. It wasn’t until she pulled onto the department’s parking lot that she realized she’d forgotten to buy something to eat.

  Chapter Four

  Shortly after the phone call, her kidnapper had left the apartment. At first, Ellie was thrilled, because he obviously didn’t mean to harm her, at least not immediately. She was even more thrilled because he seemed to have forgotten about the can he’d brought her, and the fact that it came with a pull-tab that had a sharp edge. She wasn’t yet sure what she’d be able to do with it, but she liked having it in the first place. As time went by, she was more and more aware of having skipped breakfast. Having a beer on an empty stomach might not be the greatest idea, but she was so thirsty. She’d take the risk—there was no way that she could relax and become a little blitzed, under the circumstances. Ellie drank slowly after she’d hidden the pull-tab in a corner underneath the sheet, where she could have quick access to it. The beer was cold and not even half bad—around the next mealtime, she’d be more complacent and see if she could convince him to let her out of the cuffs.

  Well, in that case, there wouldn’t be a next mealtime.

  The alcohol calmed her nerves some, despite the fact that she was in a dark room with her hand cuffed to the bed. She would be all right. Her friends would be looking for her. Soon enough, she’d be home with Jordan and…

  She needed to go to the bathroom, badly, and the urge was soon intruding on her attempt to distract herself from the situation. She needed him to come back, make him open those cuffs and…maybe she could get out. Somehow.

  * * * *

  When Jordan left the station that night, she was disheartened and angry at herself because she couldn’t do better, because she hadn’t done enough to convince Ellie to stay that night. Rhonda’s friends had confirmed her alibi. One of them had stayed over night.

  Jordan had five messages, and she didn’t care for answering either of them. Jack. Her father had probably heard about Ellie on the news and wanted to check with her. He and Pauline had met Ellie, and instantly liked her. They were probably worried. Jordan couldn’t deal with their kindness at the moment.

  Kathryn Larson. Behind the wheel once again, Jordan refrained from the impulse to bang her head against it. It seemed like her birthmother had picked up the news as well, but unlike Jack and Pauline, she was mostly looking for something to console herself, and absol
ution from Jordan.

  And, of course, Bethany. Since they were assuming an abduction, she had probably most reason to call, but damn it, if the FBI wanted in, they could send someone other than her.

  Before leaving, Jordan had reminded the lab and every one of her colleagues who worked the night to call her right away if there were any new developments. She wasn’t sure if going home was a good idea at all, and her doubts magnified the moment she arrived at her house finding Bethany’s car in the parking space. She contemplated turning around, but that would be childish. If Bethany could help in any way, Jordan wouldn’t take chances. She finally opened the car door, and Bethany emerged from her vehicle as well.

  “No sign of her yet?” she asked.

  “No.” If she wanted to be businesslike, Jordan could go along with that. In fact, this was the only way she could communicate with her ex-girlfriend.

  “Okay. Before you say anything, I want you to know I’ll help in any way I can. Resources, of course, but if you need a friend, I’ll be here for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m okay. This will be over soon.”

  “Let’s hope so. Nothing from recent releases…”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all day?”

  “Exes?” Bethany asked coolly.

  “That too. If you excuse me now, I’m tired.”

  “I know you still don’t trust me, but believe me, I don’t want anything to happen to her. I was hoping I could take a look at her apartment.”

  Jordan still wasn’t sure whether Bethany really meant to help or intended to torture her, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t care for sitting around at home and feeling useless. Besides, there was no doubt Bethany was good at her job. If it turned out that they didn’t need her skills, even better.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  It was beyond odd, being in Ellie’s apartment with Bethany, remembering the times Jordan had come sneaking in, trying to get away from a relationship that had been over long ago. She certainly hadn’t chosen the mature way out.

  “The ex, what was she like? Did Ellie ever mention anything?”

  “She made her change her hair color,” Jordan responded automatically, then wondered what Bethany would make of that.

  “A bit on the controlling side, huh? What was your impression? She calls it quits for no apparent reason but still hangs around?”

  “Not everyone skips town when a relationship is over,” Jordan said, uncomfortable with the topic. At least Bethany didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives, as far as she could tell. That didn’t improve their communication by much, but it had to do. “She sells clothes,” she continued. “I don’t think she has anything to do with this.”

  “Hm.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Bethany cast a thoughtful glance at the suitcase still standing by the door, the address of their hotel in Costa Rica written on the tag.

  “Maybe she’s playing you. Ellie would have let her in, even if it was late, right?”

  “And then what? Ellie’s a police officer. She can take care of herself, unless…”

  “She was drugged? That’s what a woman would do, right?”

  Jordan shook her head. “There was blood on the carpet, near the door.”

  “We don’t know yet it’s Ellie’s, do we?” Bethany walked towards the window and looked down onto the street. “That could have been from the kidnapper—or completely unrelated.”

  “You really want the ex to be the bad person, don’t you?” Jordan asked dryly.

  “Isn’t it always that way?” Bethany’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “You don’t know a whole lot about her. Anyone can order Rohypnol on the internet these days if they know where to look.”

  “She left Ellie.”

  “Maybe that was because Ellie was straying? All right, moving on. You said there was nothing on the arrests.”

  “For now. I haven’t ruled out Branson yet. He threatened her in court. Narcotics are tagging him as we speak.”

  Bethany made a non-committal sound as she turned and walked into the bedroom. Jordan followed her, face flushing with an emotion she didn’t care to decipher at the moment.

  “She wanted to go home for a few hours, clean up a bit before we left. I should have convinced her to stay…or go with her, damn it.”

  “We’re talking about someone who knows her routines well. Definitely knew about the trip, maybe even overheard you talking about it, someone who gets to see her everyday. They would have found another way.”

  Bethany carried on as if she was unaware Jordan was on the edge of breaking down. Of course she knew. Jordan would give her credit for not mentioning it—that was almost a first.

  “Come on. You’re talking about cops.”

  “Your point? No, I don’t think anyone from this division did it. I’ve come to know you guys quite well.” She put on the pair of gloves she’d brought and opened up the wardrobe, examining the contents, then opened a drawer in the nightstand.

  “Come on,” Jordan protested, “you don’t need to do that.”

  “Do you think anything’s missing? If someone intends to keep her for a longer period of time, and they had enough time at the scene, they might have taken some clothes—or underwear, not necessarily for the same reason.”

  Jordan remembered Darby returning to his dungeon, dangling one of Ellie’s panties in front of her, a warning that he could always come back for her. Had he? It was impossible.

  “You’re working a case,” Bethany reminded her matter-of-factly. “You need to think like it. If you can’t you shouldn’t be on it.”

  “All right then. There’s a suitcase full of clothes by the door. You don’t think they would have taken it?”

  “That depends. I don’t assume they took her to a beach somewhere?”

  Jordan didn’t bother with answering the question. “You were in touch with Darby. Do you have any idea whom he could still be in contact with, someone who wanted him to do the killing, or maybe a fanboy of his?”

  “No. If Darby was in any way behind it, we’d know by now. He’d be gloating in your face and keep asking you to come back. You’ve got to let this go. This has nothing to do with you. It’s about Ellie.”

  “I know that! I’ve been wracking my brain all day, but there’s nothing!”

  “Yeah. Everybody loves her. Okay, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

  Jordan answered her apology with a dismissive gesture.

  “Forget about it. Thank you for coming.”

  Bethany touched her arm, letting her hand linger for a moment too long.

  “You’re welcome. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

  * * * *

  He had brought food in a brown paper bag, turning on the small lamp on the table. The chain of her cuffs was too short for her to reach it.

  Ellie nearly passed out from the smell, the promise of grease and salt.

  “If you throw that in my face too, it’s the last thing you get,” he warned her. Ellie noticed that unlike earlier, he was trying to alter his voice, obviously realizing that the silent treatment wasn’t as easily put to use as he’d thought.

  By now, she was nearly hurting. “I promise I won’t try anything, but I really need to go to the bathroom. Could you…?”

  There wasn’t much she could decipher with the mask he was wearing, but she sensed his hesitation.

  “Please. I think neither of us cares much for the alternative.”

  Ellie held her breath until he said, “Okay. Remember, I don’t want to hurt you, but I have a gun, and I will use it.”

  Only if I let you. She waited patiently until he unlocked the cuff from the bed frame, but then he cuffed her wrists in front of her.

  “Really?”

  “That’ll do,” he said gruffly. “Come on. I’ll show you where it is.” Every once in a while, his voice sounded real, and then he remembered and went back to his imitation. Ellie was unsure whether she remembered
it, feeling dizzy from hunger and that beer on an empty stomach. After being forced to sit or lie down for almost twenty-four hours, she stumbled after getting up. He reacted quickly and steadied her.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  She wouldn’t blindly run and try to get away from him when he was right behind her with a gun, but the short trip would give her a better idea of the apartment’s layout and an escape route. Ellie caught a quick glimpse of the front door before he ushered her into a tiny half bath—a toilet and a pedestal sink—and locked the door behind her.

  Earlier, she’d felt so triumphant about being able to hide the pull-tab. Ellie hoped he wouldn’t look for it.

  Physical needs taken care of, she examined the bathroom, trying to find anything better to use for a weapon. Of course there was nothing. He had taken care of that.

  In a fit of frustration, she slammed the cuffs down on the sink, achieving nothing but having the metal bite in her wrists.

  “Are you all right in there?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, staring at her mirror image. He might not have locked the front door. There was a possibility… “You can open the door now.”

  Ellie took a deep breath, visualizing the way out of the room, a few steps down the hall and out the door. She would have preferred to have the cuff on one wrist only, but this was a chance too good to miss either way. She lifted her bound hands to her chest, and the moment the door was all the way open, she slammed the metal into the man’s face. The mask blocked some of the effect, but even so he let out a pained sound, a curse following.

  Ellie ran to the door, only to find it locked. She threw all her weight against it, to no avail, yanked at the handle. “Help!”

  Her scream was cut off by the wet cloth over her mouth. Ellie flailed, struggling to get free, but it was only a matter of seconds until the sickly sweet fumes rendered her unconscious.

  * * * *

  Josh laughed when he told him on the phone. “Serves you right. I told you she’s a feisty one.”

  “Well, yeah,” Danny muttered. “You still didn’t need to slam her head against the pavement. Man, that almost ruined everything.”

  “Right, you did so much better,” Josh mocked him. “She broke your nose or what?”