by Susan Gnucci
Hoping the dog’s owner would make an appearance, Tess attempted to keep the animal’s attention. “Here, boy. Come here, boy,” she encouraged it, holding her hand up to the window.
Despite her efforts, the dog quickly lost interest and wandered off, leaving Tess groaning in despair. It was just her luck to have a dog as her would-be-rescuer.
Just then a pair of legs, and soon after, a face came into view, startling Tess so badly she instinctively backed away, and as a consequence, almost toppled off her perch. The kindly face that peered in at her was elderly and male. Once over her initial shock, Tess reached up to press her face against the bars and pleaded for help.
“Please, help me. I’ve been kidnapped. Please call the police.”
The old man was obviously having difficulty maintaining his balance stooped over as he was, so bending down gingerly first on one knee and then the other, he inched closer to the window, cupping his hand to his ear in an attempt to hear her.
Great. He’s hard-of-hearing.
The dog began barking excitedly at that point, but his owner paid it no heed, preoccupied as he was at the window. Just as Tess opened her mouth to repeat her plea, she heard a sickening thud. The old man’s expression turned from one of concern to one of surprise and pain as he slumped to the ground. When he feebly attempted to raise himself, the look in his eyes reflected the full horror of his predicament. A second equally loud thud splattered the window with blood. It was on the second blow that she saw the shovel. Shocked and sickened, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to make her limbs obey her natural flight response. And then the old man’s body was dragged out of sight, disappearing from view in short, angry jerks.
Tess was vaguely aware of the dog barking furiously for several more minutes. As her body went into shock, she began to tremble violently. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself to quell the tremors. And then the barking abruptly stopped. Listening intently, she was quite certain there had been no yelp. Surely, he wouldn’t have killed the dog as well, would he? And what was he doing home so early anyway? She hadn’t expected him for hours. All these thoughts raced through her mind as she waited in agonized silence.
With sickening clarity, she realized what this meant. An innocent man was dead, and she had been the cause. If she had just remained silent, he would have gone on his way. He would be alive this very minute if it hadn’t been for her. She’d had no right to risk someone else’s life, and yet she had. She’d thrown caution to the wind and had grabbed at the opportunity presented to her, grabbed at it with no consideration for anyone but herself. And because of her thoughtless actions, a man was dead.
Stumbling off the chair, she scurried over to her mattress where she sank against the wall in the corner of the room and began to rock herself rhythmically. She knew he would come for her. The cold, hard reality that she had perhaps minutes to live didn’t even seem to register with her. She underwent an almost out-of-body experience, as though it wasn’t her in this horrific predicament but someone else. It was hard to fathom she was the pathetic, fear-riddled woman cowering in anticipation of her captor. However much she desperately needed to use those moments to collect herself, she simply couldn’t. Maybe that was a blessing, for when he finally did appear, she was past caring. She simply wanted it to be over with.
The screech of the bolts sliding back signalled his entry, and as he stepped into the room, he threw her an annoyed, exasperated look. Speaking in a carefully controlled voice, but one edged with irritation, he scolded her. “Because of you, Tess, I’ve had to do a most loathsome thing.”
His comment immediately triggered her anger. “What? Kill a helpless old man?” she sneered at him. Her retort shocked even herself, for only moments before she had all but given up.
He simply frowned at her while he keyed the interior lock after which he set the duffel bag he had been carrying down on the chair. His actions sparked Tess to spring warily to her feet.
“So I’m next; is that it?” She was getting hysterical now as she watched him open the bag. “Bashing in the skull of an old man and killing his dog wasn’t enough for one day?”
He gave her a mortified look. “I did not hurt his dog.” He seemed distracted as he proceeded to rummage through the bag. “But it knows I hurt its owner, and I had to chase it off, poor thing.”
“That’s your definition of loathsome? You’re insane! You are fucking insane!” She was screaming now, but she didn’t care.
“My, my. Such colourful language. Please calm yourself, Tess.” All his earlier irritation seemed to melt away in the face of her hysteria. “We have to leave. Immediately. You can cooperate or I can sedate you. The choice is yours.”
He seemed so matter-of-fact about it that she burst out laughing. He was giving her a choice? He was going to kill her, but the choice was to be awake for it or to be oblivious to it? What a ludicrous choice. Everything about this man was ludicrous.
When he saw her disbelief, he continued, “Look, Tess. We’re moving; that’s all. We have to leave.”
She backed away from him shaking her head slowly and moaning softly.
“I promise. I won’t hurt you. I simply have no time to fight with you on this. Now you can make it easy on yourself and cooperate, or I will have to resort to medicating you, and I’m sure you don’t want that, now do you?”
She wrapped her arms around herself to bolster her courage. “Alright. Alright. I’ll go with you, but no drugs, please.”
“Ah, now, good girl.” He smiled broadly as he removed a length of rope from the bag. Tess gasped upon seeing it. In an attempt to win her cooperation, he assured her, “No drugs, Tess, but I will need to bind your wrists.” When she started to protest, he raised a hand. “Merely a precaution. Merely a precaution,” he insisted. “I won’t bind your feet, but I do insist on your wrists. Place your hands behind your back and turn around, please.”
Wordless, she shook her head. The calmness of her voice when she found it was surprising, not only to him, but to her as well. “I won’t try anything. I give you my word, but I will not turn my back on you. Here,” she held her wrists out in front of her defiantly.
For a brief moment, he scrutinized her, sizing up whether it was worth fighting with her over this one thing.
Obviously pressed for time, she hoped he would capitulate, but if she thought that, she was sorely mistaken. He made a sudden grab for her arm, twisting it cruelly and spun her around, after which he grabbed her other arm and proceeded to bind her wrists together leaving a length of rope dangling. She winced at the roughness of the rope as it bit into her flesh. Ignoring her discomfort, he turned his attention back to the duffel bag preoccupying himself with rooting through it.
Despite her rough treatment, Tess was not cowed. “Where are we going?” she demanded.
“Really, Tess. You are becoming quite tiresome,” he scolded her. “Why, you’d try the patience of a saint.” Throwing her a mischievous grin, he added, “And a saint, I’m not.”
As they were about to leave the room, he produced a roll of duct tape and stripped off a piece. Tess balked and instinctively backed away, prompting him to hold up his hand. “I can’t afford to have you screaming, now can I?”
Tears of frustration and helplessness rolled down her cheeks as she was forced to stand while her captor applied the tape to her mouth. He paused afterwards and awkwardly brushed aside the wetness from her cheek with his thumb. He marveled at it for a moment as if it was something foreign to him.
Moments later, he forced her to walk in front of him out of the basement tethered like a dog on a leash. He had backed the car into the carport right next to the door, and as they stepped outside, Tess took her first breath of fresh air in days. Despite her circumstances, she revelled in the luxury. True panic descended on her, however, when she spied the open trunk of the car, at which point she started straining and bucking on the rope like some wild, crazed animal. Her captor had to drop the duffel bag he was carrying
and use both hands in an attempt to control her, jerking so hard on the rope, she was catapulted backwards into his arms. A searing pain shot through her shoulders. Lifting her effortlessly, he dumped her into the trunk’s interior and slammed the lid shut before she even knew what had happened. Lying in the dark, coffin-like interior, numb and traumatized, she knew with agonizing clarity that her last chance at freedom may very well have just come and gone.
As the clock struck 6:00 p.m., McLean had a sick feeling the killer would not show. By 6:01, he was certain. This realization hit him squarely in the gut. All of their careful preparations, all of the steps they had taken to nab this guy, and yet, they had nothing for their efforts. The taste of failure sat sourly in the back of the young detective’s throat. Dropping heavily into a chair in the veterinarian’s office, he raked a hand through his hair.
“He may still show, Jay.” Baxter clapped his partner on the back even though they both knew how implausible that was given what they knew of their suspect.
McLean shook his head and grimaced. “Let’s face it, Ed. He made us. I don’t know how, but he did. He must have picked up on something.” Throwing his hands in the air, McLean continued, “And God help us now. You know what that means. If Tess is even still alive, she won’t be for long.”
Ed replied in a quiet, measured voice, “If you’re right, and he knows we’re on to him, Jay, he’s going to be on the move, and she would be a huge liability.”
The young detective grimaced again and nodded his understanding.
Wasting no time on further speculation, Baxter pulled out his cell phone, punched in a contact and began barking orders, “I want his sketch re-sent to all ferry points and airports on the island and contact the RCMP to alert their highway patrol. Re-send them the sketch too. And listen, for the next 24 hours, I want you guys to monitor all 911 calls from Sidney to Sooke. Call me with anything that doesn’t sit well with you, no matter how trivial; got it?”
Satisfied his orders were being acted upon, Baxter turned his attention back to his partner who sat dejectedly with his head in his hands. “How long do you want to wait, Jay?” he asked carefully, checking his watch.
“No sense in staying. He’s not coming,” McLean looked up, sighing heavily.
“Alright then, let’s get off our arses and get the crime lab guys in here. Maybe they can lift some prints or DNA from this guy. Call Doc Anderson and get him back here, will ya?” Baxter raised an eyebrow expectantly at his partner as though he would not tolerate self-pity, and in response, McLean duly pulled out his cell phone. He did so with a heavy heart.
Trapped in the pitch black of the trunk’s interior, Tess’ claustrophobia virtually consumed her, so much so, she wasn’t aware of anything other than the importance of calming her breathing. It took several minutes to bring that under control, but once accomplished, she was able to think clearly. She knew a trunk couldn’t possibly be airtight although she’d heard of people suffocating in them if they were trapped for any length of time. She had to wonder if it wouldn’t be a blessing to simply die that way before reaching their destination. A part of her would love to be a ‘fly on the wall’ in that case – to see the look on his face when he opened the trunk only to be denied his sport. To cheat him out of his pleasure would be a sweet victory, even if she wasn’t around to savour it.
She gently rotated her shoulders in an effort to determine if she had dislocated anything in her attempt to flee, but although sore, they seemed OK. Thank goodness. Where was he taking her? Were they really moving to another location, or was she too much of a risk to have around any longer? What should she do when he came for her? She doubted she could outrun him, and she was no match for his strength, so what did that leave?
Maybe she could fashion something out of the rope. As this idea leapt to mind, she concentrated on freeing one wrist, spending precious minutes pulling, twisting and wriggling her hands. The rope was thick and strong, but so desperate were her efforts, she eventually felt some slack, which only encouraged her to work harder. She knew she was chaffing her wrists and she figured they were probably bleeding, but that seemed trivial under the circumstances. After what seemed like ages with no further success, her wrists numb and aching, she felt on the verge of giving up, but she knew that in doing so, she would be doomed. She had to free her hands and she had to do so before the trauma she was inflicting on her wrists caused them to swell. And so, she persevered with an even greater vengeance, concentrating on her dominant hand, exploring any and every conceivable position in order to free it. Finally, her struggles paid off – she was able to pull her right wrist loose. She had to fight the urge to bellow in triumph with her accomplishment, for although it was only one small victory, it felt like the greatest achievement of her life. Reaching up, she stripped the duct tape from her mouth, allowing her to take several deep breaths despite the stuffiness of the trunk’s interior. Knowing she could not afford to waste valuable time savouring the moment, she removed the rope from her other wrist and pondered what to do with it. Could she tie the trunk lid down somehow? But what would that accomplish other than prevent him from getting at her? She would still be stuck in the trunk of a car, and he would have the luxury of waiting her out.
Surely there had to be an internal trunk release mechanism somewhere, would there not? Shifting her weight carefully so as not to make any noise, she was able to slide herself into a position whereby she faced the trunk opening. Blindly, she moved her fingers over the inner trunk hatch, searching for some type of handle or some way to access the latch mechanism. In doing so, she suddenly realized the recklessness of bailing out of the trunk of a moving car at highway speed. That in itself was foolhardy, not to mention the possibility of a dashboard light, which would indicate an open trunk lid, essentially tipping him off the minute she disengaged the latch. Granted, from her brief glance at the car as she was led from the house, it appeared to be an older model sedan, so maybe it didn’t have any type of indicator, but should she take the chance? Her other choice was to wait until the car stopped. But what would popping the trunk do then other than buy her a few seconds head start? Unsure of what to do, she hesitated and wracked her brain for another idea.
Knowing there had to be a spare tire compartment somewhere in the trunk, she began to search frantically for a way to access it and soon came across a metal ring. In order to pull the compartment lid up; however, she had to roll to the very front of the trunk to get out of the way. Once she lifted the cover, she didn’t have the necessary leverage to lift the tire itself, but she was able to feel around its contours for any tool, her fingers slipping feverishly into every nook and cranny to examine all her eyes could not see… Her heart sank. Nothing.
Gently closing the compartment cover and rolling carefully onto her back, she covered her face with her hands to stifle her anguish. ‘Think, Tess. Think!’ she scolded herself. All of a sudden, an earlier speculation she had once contemplated made sense – that her sightings with her captor were somehow the result of proximity. The murder, the ferry and now her captivity had all produced sightings and they were all circumstances involving close physical proximity with her captor. Could she channel in his presence now? And even if she could, would it help? What if he could tell she was trying to channel? Such a thought turned her stomach; nevertheless, she had run out of options.
Breathing deeply in order to focus, she tried to clear her mind. It was difficult to push aside the terror coursing through her, to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dread threatening to consume her, but Tess gritted her teeth and tried to concentrate on emptying her mind. Minutes passed marked only by the soft whine of tires on pavement. As she stared into the gaping blackness of the trunk’s interior, an image slashed through the darkness. Another followed in rapid succession and another. Trees. She saw trees…
Tess groaned and covered her eyes with her hands, curling herself into a fetal position where she lay for several minutes having all but given up. The last four days had bee
n a nightmare. Every bone in her body ached. She was exhausted, having slept only fitfully, dozing for no more than a few hours at a time, always fearful, always on edge. In her despair, all she wanted to do was allow the gentle rocking of the car to lull her to sleep. She didn’t know how long she lay in her numb, exhausted state. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. She lost all track of time, her watch useless in the pitch dark.
Despite the fog of despair, some part of her brain refused to give up, and from out of nowhere, an idea came to her. She could attempt to kick out a tail light in order to alert another driver! She’d seen such a thing once in a movie. Kicking out the tail light would allow her to signal a driver behind them. She could use her hand, or the rope, or even a piece of her clothing. Surely, there were other motorists on the road! Her heart soared with hope. Listening carefully for several seconds in an attempt to discern the sound of other vehicles, she realized with dismay she couldn’t hear any. To make matters worse, the car began to slow and turn… She held her breath…
It was a crushing blow to hear the crunch of gravel under the tires because she knew what that meant – they were heading up a logging road. She was so unnerved by this turn of events that all but confirmed her worst fears, she wet herself, the liquid warmth spreading down her legs, but she hardly took notice, her mind was so dulled and traumatized. When she finally did come to her senses, she had to wonder – How much time did she have? Would she have any chance to make a break for it, and even if she did, where would she run to?
In her moment of utter despair, Emmy’s face came to her, so unexpected and so calming, she instantly felt her hopelessness melt away. She knew she had to fight for her life, even if it meant she died trying. She still had one chance left. She just needed to choose her moment.