by Susan Gnucci
Less than ten minutes into her work, she realized with dismay she had a problem; the bristles were digging into the palm of her hand. Continuing as she was would likely lead to an abrasion. Cursing under her breath, she brainstormed for a solution, finally striping off one of her socks to use as a glove. Relief soon gave way to delight as she discovered an added benefit of her makeshift glove – it actually gave her a better grip.
She had to pause often during the course of the evening, for she had no idea how long her captor would be gone. Closing her eyes and stilling her breathing, she strained her ears for any sign of his impending return. While she listened, she flexed her cramped hands, rubbing and stretching out her fingers, gently coaxing life back into them. Her breaks also allowed the brush handle to cool off as it grew quite warm while she worked. The last thing she needed was the smell of burning wood. That would be sure to give her away.
Holding the brush up in front of her at one point, she noted with pride how the once oval-shaped handle was now trimmed slightly on both sides into a more tapered shape. Several more hours should fashion it into something she could use.
While busy sharpening the brush, Tess used the time to strategize on the best course of action for her escape plan. Clearly, her best chance at injuring her captor was while he was carrying her food tray. With both his hands occupied, he would have little opportunity to defend himself. That meant moving toward him as soon as he entered the room, before he had a chance to set the tray down. Would he be suspicious of her actions when she had cowered before in his presence?
As the hour neared 11:00 p.m., Tess couldn’t believe her good fortune in being able to work for so long, but she grew increasingly anxious as to her captor’s whereabouts. Where would he have gone? Only minutes later, her nerves sprang into high gear with the sound of an approaching car crunching in a gravel driveway, forcing her to put an immediate stop to her work. Although exhausted and sore, she scrambled to stand up, her back muscles screaming out in protest. Ever careful of her wobbly balance, she made her way stiffly over to the sink. To anyone watching, she must have appeared comical, like an intoxicated old woman in a hurry. Quickly, she washed her hands and rinsed off the brush, leaving it bristle end in plain sight at the sink, it’s newly fashioned handle hidden underneath the towel.
Making her way back over to her mattress, she was shoving it back into place along the wall when she heard the door to the house open and close. As she sat down, her eye fell on her discarded sock which she promptly snatched up. Turning it inside out, she clumsily put it back on, a difficult task given her panic and her aching hands.
Taking a deep breath, she sat cross-legged on her mattress and prepared herself for his entrance into her room, thankful she at least had the light on. She had never been one to be afraid of the dark, but if he came at her, she’d much rather see him coming than not.
To her consternation, he never came to her room, and as the anxious minutes ticked by, she began to wonder about the reason for that. Suddenly, a thought dawned on her – could it be because he had some sort of camera set up? Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? How could she have been so stupid? Eyes darting to and fro, she rose from her mattress and methodically began to check every square inch of her room. So busy was she with her efforts, she was badly startled by a knock on the door some minutes later.
“Tess?” he called her name. “Just checking in. I shall do so any time I return. Is that clear?”
She stood dumbfounded and breathless.
“Tess?”
Not wanting to give him any reason to enter her room, she stuttered a hasty reply, “Y…Yes, I understand.”
“Good then. Sleep tight, my dear. We shall visit more in the morning.”
Her heart dropped at his words.
By the end of that first exhausting day, an extensive and fruitless search had been conducted of the two local hospitals and dozens of medical clinics in the city for an employee who matched the killer’s sketch. At one point, a surgical orderly caused a flurry of excitement. Not only did he resemble the sketch, but he had not shown up for his shift that afternoon. Upon further investigation, however, it was discovered he had been in a car accident up island and was in the hospital in Nanaimo. Such dead-end leads were hard on everyone. They looked promising at first, allowing hopes to be raised, and then when they didn’t pan out, those hopes were dashed. Such roller coaster ups and downs took a toll, particularly when everyone was working on minimal sleep. It wasn’t long before the smallest thing could cause tension as everyone’s nerves began to fray.
It was late in the day when the two detectives regrouped with their team and conceded the fact they were stymied. “OK. Think!” McLean tried to brainstorm. “Where else would someone have access to syringes and sedatives?”
Before anyone else could answer, Baxter took the lead and began barking orders, “I want a list of every pharmacy, every nursing home, hell, even every dental clinic in town, and I want that NOW!”
Having been given their marching orders, everyone scattered like rats off a sinking ship. You did not want to be around Detective Baxter when he was in a foul mood.
Sighing heavily as if exhausted at the prospect of the task ahead, Baxter turned to his partner. “It’s going to take us a while to canvass those, Jay.”
At first, McLean didn’t seem to hear his partner’s comment as he appeared deep in thought. “Wait! Wait a minute,” he suddenly announced. Grabbing a seat in front of a computer terminal, he quickly keyed in a search. “Veterinarians would have syringes and sedatives, right?” he asked, his voice barely able to contain the emotions he was struggling with.
“I didn’t think of that, but you’re right,” Baxter nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll add them to the list.”
McLean turned from the screen. “Check those out first, Ed. Tess told me she sensed this guy had some kind of connection with animals.” Ignoring his partner’s skeptical frown, he continued, “Just humour me, Ed. I have a feeling about this.” The look he gave his partner was a tortured one.
“Come on you pansies,” the senior detective bellowed when he caught his men staring. “You heard him. Let’s get a move on!” Some of the officers mumbled amongst themselves, prompting him to add, “What? You got somethin’ more important to do tonight, boys?”
No one dared answer.
Tess woke with a start. Her heart was racing and she was shivering from a cold sweat. Rolling over on the mattress, she curled into a fetal position, wrapping her arms around her knees in an attempt to warm herself. She must have been dreaming, but thankfully, she couldn’t remember about what. It was still dark save for a pale shaft of moonlight shining through the sole window in her room, allowing her to check her watch – 5:00 a.m. She listened intently for any sign to indicate her captor was up, but the only thing to disturb the stillness of the early morning hour was a soft but incessant chorus from what she could only surmise were frogs. This all but confirmed her belief she was in a rural setting because she knew you didn’t hear that in the city. And yet, she had no way of knowing how far he’d taken her. For all she knew, she may no longer even be on the island on which she lived.
As she lay restless and cold, she wondered if Leah was asleep or if she was lying troubled and fearful as well. Were Detectives Baxter and McLean looking for her? She smiled wistfully when she thought of McLean and her infatuation with him. Their relationship had barely begun, and now she doubted she would ever get the chance to explore it further. She vowed if she ever got out of this, she would ask him out. Her thoughts drifted to her beloved guardian, and she was thankful Emmy had never lived to endure her abduction. Sighing heavily, she whispered, “If you’re up there, Emmy, I could really use some help.”
Tess knew when her captor stirred from his bed later in the morning because she could hear his shower. It simply floored her that people like him had any normalcy to their lives. How could a person be such a monster on the inside, so insidiously evil, and yet for all inten
ts and purposes, lead a seemingly ordinary life – working, shopping, cooking, and even sometimes maintaining what appeared to be a perfectly normal marriage or family life?
As she struggled to rise and get her stiff limbs warmed up, she was relieved to find the effects of the drug had finally worn off. She was still a bit unsteady on her feet, undoubtedly because of the blow she’d taken to the back of her head. As she began to pace the room, her thoughts turned to her captor. She knew he fed off fear, so it was crucial she reasoned, not to show him any. That would be no easy task. She was quite literally terrified of him. How the hell was she going to hide that fact? ‘Get angry, Tess! Get bloody angry!’ she reproached herself. If he expected her to cower and beg, he bloody well had another thing coming.
By the time he entered her room carrying a breakfast tray some time later, he encountered a very different young woman. After locking the door behind him, he narrowed his eyes at her, immediately suspicious of the change in her demeanour, for Tess sat cross legged on her mattress with her arms folded defiantly in front of her chest, glaring at him. Before he could say a word, she demanded, “What are you going to do with me?”
He smiled broadly at her, obviously impressed with her spunk. “Why, kill you of course!” he replied matter-of-factly as he set the tray down on the corner of the mattress, prompting a skittish response from her. When he saw the horrified look on her face, he stepped back and chuckled, “Come now, Tessa. What did you think I was going to do with you?” He smiled wickedly at her but then checked himself. “Oh, I don’t mean right this minute. Now tell me, Tess. You don’t mind me calling you that, do you? After all, I feel like we already know one other. Now tell me, how long have you had your ability?” He settled himself on the lone chair in the room, crossed his legs, and eagerly awaited her response much like a little boy who had settled himself down to hear a good story.
Well, she would have none of it. She would not give him the satisfaction of picking her brain apart in order to satisfy his idle curiosity and then disposing of her afterwards. She was admittedly terrified of him, but her voice when she found it was strong and calm.
“How long have you been killing women?”
The directness of her question didn’t faze him at all.
“Ah, so you’re curious too. Let’s see. Well, I made my first kill when I was all of eighteen. But it was a messy business, I must confess.” He rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. “I was such an amateur back then.”
“No, I mean your very first kill,” she replied undaunted.
That threw him. He cocked his head and squinted at her, almost as if he was trying to read her mind. He reminded her of an insect sizing up its prey before it struck.
She steeled herself before continuing, “You know…your sister.”
His eyebrows shot up.
When he did not respond, she pressed further, “In the bathtub.” She could not help the slow smile that crept upon her face at having bested him.
His shocked expression quickly gave way to one of grudging admiration, and he seemed to study her then, smirking knowingly. “So you can see into the past, can you? Tell me, do you all of a sudden just know things or do you actually see them?” He stood up as if agitated and began to pace the room. “Did you see, for instance, how easily she slipped under the water, Tess?” He gestured broadly with his hands in a dramatic fashion much like an actor on a stage. “No protest.” He shook his head with deliberate care as though to better convince her. “No protest at all.”
His excitement mounting, he continued, “And did you see how her little blonde curls fanned out around her face? Those curls my mother loved to comb every single night.” He seemed on the verge of working himself up into a frenzy, but in a matter of seconds, he reigned in his emotions. “And did you see how she just lay there staring up at me, mouth gaping like a beached fish. So trusting. So innocent. Her little hand reaching out…” He extended his arm as though to grasp something elusive in the air above him. “It was so…touching.”
Tess hated to sink to his level, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Everyone believed it was an accident, didn’t they?” she asked him. “After all, how could a little boy do something like that? On purpose? But your mother knew, didn’t she?”
A fleeting, pained expression crossed his face.
Tess felt a stab of perverse pleasure at having wounded him with that truth, and she didn’t stop there. “And she changed afterwards toward you, didn’t she? She withdrew. Sort of like her love for you just kind of…died.”
The look he threw her literally took her breath away. It was filled with such pure and utter venom, Tess felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she feared she had gone too far. His response surprised her, however, for he merely brought both hands together in front of his face and closed his eyes as if deep in meditation. Opening them seconds later, he levelled his gaze at her, giving her a forced, tight smile. “Touché, Tess, touché.” His voice was low and deadly serious. “But remember, two can play that game. We’re alike you and I. We’re kindred souls.” Without another word, he rose and headed for the door. As he keyed the lock open, he caught her comment.
“We’re not alike at all,” she said softly. “I have no skeletons in my closet.”
As the dozens of local vet clinics and animal hospitals were being checked out, McLean stood in his office pouring over a map on the wall. As each location was cleared and radioed in, he ticked it off on the map. His frustration was mounting as he still trusted a gut feeling, and yet, it hadn’t produced any leads. What if he was wrong? What if he was steering them in the wrong direction? Would they waste precious time when they should be looking elsewhere?
Other than the syringe cap, they had no other leads. Tess’ bank and credit cards had not been used since her disappearance, and the records for her home, cell and office phones had not produced any suspicious numbers. She had taken the bus up to the university on the day of her disappearance, so there was no need to track her car. It still sat in her driveway. The graduate student who had stopped by the lab at 6:30 p.m. that night confirmed Tess had been planning to head up to the dome to set up for a tour and do some marking. This grad student had no recollection of seeing a janitor in the building despite the fact the janitorial shift had started an hour earlier. She also confirmed it was not unusual for Tess to work late. Leah hadn’t reported Tess missing until 11:45 p.m. This timeframe had given the killer plenty of time to make his move.
McLean’s head ached from hours of endless speculation. He wondered what Tess must have been thinking when she actually saw the killer face-to-face. Squeezing his eyes shut, he winced as if in physical pain. She must have been so terrified. And he had not been there to protect her. That ate away at him. All the months of searching for this guy, and all the months of assuring her they would find him, had all been for naught. In the end, they had failed her. He had failed her. It was that simple.
Sighing wearily, he moved to stand in front of the window from which he looked out over the city, his mind awash with worry and guilt. Was Tess already dead? Was she lying at this very minute in some wooded area where she would never be found? Or would her weathered bones be discovered months or maybe even years from now? He shook his head to clear it. He had to stop thinking such thoughts. It wasn’t helping anything. If anyone had a chance of surviving, it was Tess. He marvelled not only at her presence of mind, but also at her courage, in attempting to save herself by hiding in that cupboard. She must have had only minutes if not seconds to make such a choice, and yet, she had acted. ‘Stay strong, Tess’, he willed her. ‘Stay strong’.
Just then, Baxter entered the conference room in search of his partner. Never one for physical displays of affection, he couldn’t help but place a hand on his partner’s shoulder. They stood in awkward silence for several seconds, each of them well aware of the dwindling odds of locating Tess alive. In an attempt to offer some consolation, Baxter advised his young charg
e, “Don’t give up, Jay. We may hit something yet. We’re not only checking every vet clinic in town, but also those from Sooke all the way out to Sidney.” As he spoke the words, he knew how hollow they sounded. Both of them knew only too well that the clock was ticking and a killer had the upper hand.
To her utter dismay, Tess had no opportunity to work on the hairbrush during the second day of her captivity because although she heard the basement door to the house open and close several times, she did not hear a car. To err on the side of caution, she had to assume her captor was working outside but had not left the property, making it too risky to work on the brush. If he happened to pass by her window and look in…
Thinking back on their conversation that morning, she chided herself roundly for her stupidity. True, she mustn’t show fear, but to deliberately provoke him was madness. It was as though some sick need within her had been awakened, some primal desire to wound him, to strike out at him first before he could hurt her. Never in her life had she ever used her ability that way, and it sickened her to have stooped to such a low level. She had to be more careful. She could not risk angering him again. She knew the key to her survival was playing to his ego. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bolt sliding…
Tess stood sick with fear at the touch of his fingers lacing idly through her hair, struggling against an overwhelming urge to throw up. She hated the mounting sense of helplessness she was experiencing, and it was all she could do not to cringe. Closing her eyes, she waited in tortured silence for his hands to settle around her neck. If they did, she knew what she would do – fight! She was certain her struggles would only excite him further, and she already knew how strong he was, but she had no choice. She would not go like a lamb to the slaughter.