Way Down There (An Allie Down Mystery Thriller Book 1)

by PJ Fernor

  I knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Cat called out in a groggy voice.

  “It’s Detective Allie Down,” I said.

  I heard the chain and then the main deadbolt lock click open.

  The door opened and Cat looked like a version of hell.

  “Did you find her?”

  “No.”

  Cat hung her head. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to talk about a few things,” I said. “Mind if I come in?”

  “I haven’t straightened the place up in a while,” Cat said.

  “I’m not here to judge your cleaning skills.”

  “Funny,” she said.

  Cat turned and walked from the door.

  I entered the apartment and was hit with the smell of dirty laundry and cigarette smoke.

  An ashtray was on the dining room table, filled with cigarette butts, along with a lit cigarette.

  I watched as Cat took a pack of cigarettes off the table and proceeded to light a fresh cigarette.

  Before I could point to the table, she realized what she had done so she quickly slammed the half smoked cigarette so hard into the ashtray that some of the old cigarette butts jumped out onto the table.

  She looked at me again.

  She looked hungover. Her eyes were red and puffy. Big, purple bags hung under them. Her hair was greasy too.

  It looked like she hadn’t taken care of herself since the day I met her at the station.

  “I heard you did an interview,” I said. “That’s good. Spread the word.”

  “Such garbage,” Cat said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “They set it all up,” she said. “They played into it. Our emotions. The divorce. Like we’re some… I don’t know. Like some tabloid couple, you know? Like now someone is going to write our story and turn it into a TV show.”

  Cat coughed, caught herself from crying, and sucked on her cigarette like a baby to a mother’s chest.

  “Some things are out of my control, Cat,” I said. “I wanted to come over and check on you. Tell you everything I’ve been doing. I wanted to see if anything came to you.”

  “Came to me? Like religion?”

  “No. Some detail. Someone hanging around outside the building. I met two women out front…”

  “Eleanor and Delores,” Cat said. “They live above me. Separate apartments. They keep things under control out there. Nobody would bother Jessie. I didn’t let her play outside here. What do you think I am, some kind of sick mother?”

  “No, Cat,” I said. “I’m trying to find the smallest clue possible. Because right now, those above me? They’re looking outside of town. Moving things wider. Which isn’t a bad thing, Cat, but I believe she’s close.”

  “Well, good for you,” Cat said. “You have a hunch? Then why are you here?”

  “Do you know anyone that owns an SUV?”

  Cat laughed. “Your boyfriend already questioned me on that.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That other detective… Ben…”

  “He’s not…” I shook my head. That doesn’t matter. “I understand that. Right now, that’s really all we have. That, and possibly a key.”

  “A key?” Cat asked.

  “Yeah. I went back to where Lucy was found and there was a key. I have to figure out how that key connects to the SUV. I need to know everything possible, Cat. I hate to ask certain questions… but did you owe anyone anything? Did Connor owe anyone anything?”

  Cat laughed again.

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “This is hard,” I said. “Believe me, I know. And I want Jessie to be here.”

  “I don’t owe anyone a thing. My life looks like shit because of what Connor did. Okay? And, yeah, I hired a private investigator to look into Connor. Because things changed so fast. And I wanted the truth. I paid that man in full. I have nothing to do with my daughter disappearing.”

  I took the key out of my pocket and showed it to Cat in my hand.

  “Every little bit helps,” I said to her. “Even if it doesn’t seem-”

  Cat burst into laughter.

  Laughter?

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is something funny right now?”

  “If I don’t laugh, Detective, then I’m going to scream… and when I scream, I’m going to lose my mind for good.”

  “Why is that, Cat?”

  She kept a broken hearted smile on her face and pointed to the key with her lit cigarette between her fingers.

  “I know what that key goes to.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Then

  Everything is different. And everything will always be different.

  The little boy’s mother is dead.

  And his father tells everyone lies about it.

  Or maybe… not lies?

  His father tells everyone she had a terrible accident in the kitchen. She was still grieving the death of her youngest son and she was crying while cutting an onion and cut herself. Then she fell onto the knife.

  What a terrible thing to have happen to such a good woman.

  Right?

  That’s how the story always goes.

  His father still doesn’t cry.

  Nobody is allowed to cry.

  Not even his sister.

  But she wouldn’t cry anyway.

  Now with his mother dead, his father took Milton’s bed out of the bedroom.

  So now the little boy has his own room.

  A nice room.

  It has a nice view.

  But it’s not the same.

  The little boy wants Milton back. He wants to see Milton get excited for the snow. When it snowed a lot and school would close…

  “Knock, knock, you little shit,” a voice says.

  The little boy feels a chill go up and down his back.

  He moves from the window because the last time he was near the window his sister said she was going to push him out of it. Just to watch him fall. Because she wanted to see his neck break. Because when she pushed Milton, he screamed, but she didn’t get to see him hit hard enough.

  It scares the little boy when his sister talks like that.

  “What do you want?” the little boys asks.

  “To see if you’re still crying,” she says.

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ll tell Daddy on you. Then he’ll get his belt and make your ass bleed. Is that what you want?”

  The little boy shakes his head.

  His sister jumps onto his bed, on her belly.

  She looks quiet and innocent.

  She kicks her feet.

  She plays with her hair.

  “You know what you saw, right?”

  The little boy shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You know why he lies about it, right?”

  “Why?”

  “So nobody takes us.”

  “Takes us?”

  “Oh, yeah. Our house is a bad place, Frank. Bad things happen. So if Daddy tells the truth, they’ll come get us.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Bad people.”

  “What…”

  “You know what you saw though, right?”

  The little boy swallows hard.

  “She cut her wrists on purpose,” his sister says. Her eyes go wide. “She cut her wrists with a knife. And then you came into the kitchen. You ruined her suicide. You little shit.”

  “Shut up,” the little boy says.

  “No. Because then she stabbed herself in the stomach and fell down. And you watched. You sick boy. You’re a sicko, you know that?”

  “Stop it!” the little boy yells.

  His sister giggles. “Calm down. Don’t make me hurt you next.”

  The little boy starts to shake.

  “Want to see something?”

  “What?”

  “Watch…”

  His sister gets off the bed and reaches into her pocket.


  She has a key.

  “What’s that?”

  “A key, idiot,” she says.

  “But for what?”

  “I have a special box. I got it from Santa. I hide things in it. Remember Old Lady Winston’s cat?”

  The little boy nods.

  “I carved the cat’s eyes out and put them in my special box.”

  “What?”

  “Then I threw the cat’s body into the field for the coyotes to eat.”

  The little boy shakes his head.

  “When you all were outside that day… I did something.”

  “What did you do?” the little boy asks.

  “I took another knife. A small one. And I cut her. I cut her shirt and her skin and got her blood…”

  The little boy feels sick.

  His sister smiles. “So if you ever want to kiss your mommy again, you can. I have the key. You can eat some dog shit as your fee and then you can see her blood and her skin and her shirt.”

  The little boy falls to his knees and throws up.

  His sister giggles and runs out of the room.

  She calls for their father… Frank is sick!

  The little boy shuts his eyes.

  He wants to disappear.

  Become someone else.

  And have the family he was supposed to have all along.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Jessie

  The man is angry. He’s so angry…

  There wasn’t anything left to break so the man walked around upstairs and stomped his heavy feet and screamed. And these weren’t just screams of a person who was angry. This was a scream of… of a kid.

  The man had a way of making his voice sound high pitched, almost squealing, which reminded Jessie of the time at the dance studio when Ava fell and hit her knee on the hard floor. The scream that Ava let out made everyone in class cover their ears. And Nelle rushed to Ava’s aid and scooped her up and held her. She rocked her until she calmed down and then gave her a choice. Nelle would call Ava’s mother to come get her. Or she could finish class.

  Nelle was so special like that.

  Able to calm anyone down.

  Nelle knew a lot about Jessie’s parents.

  Nelle liked to help out…

  Jessie’s teeth chattered.

  The memories flooded her young mind of that night.

  That’s how her mind processed it.

  That night with the man.

  Jessie replayed it in her mind

  But with a different outcome.

  In her mind, Jessie had it all worked out now.

  When she saw the lights, she would have walked back to the door to the dance studio. Even if it was locked, Nelle was always there.

  But what if she wasn’t?

  Fine, that would’ve been the easy way.

  So, what if Nelle wasn’t there? What if she had left for some reason?

  Jessie had that figured out too.

  Run.

  She knew if she ran through the back parking lot, it would have taken her into the alley. The alley was scary, sure, but nowhere near as scary as the basement where she now lived. And from that alley, she would have cut back toward the main street and found help.

  Because the man didn’t actually want her. He didn’t plan to take her.

  It was just really bad luck.

  Just really, super, stupid bad luck.

  All the scenarios in the world didn’t mean a thing.

  Because the reality was…

  Jessie looked up and listened to the thuds.

  It had been so quiet earlier too. But earlier might have been morning or overnight last night or maybe it was a month ago because time didn’t exist anymore.

  But it had been quiet.

  The man had been sleeping soundly.

  Or he was gone.

  The thought of him leaving gave Jessie hope, but that didn’t really matter because she was still chained to the pipe in the basement. The man still didn’t trust her because of her attempt to escape.

  The thuds moved toward the basement door and it opened.

  Jessie hugged her knees with her back against the cool and dirty wall.

  Her teeth continued to chatter.

  The man ran down the steps.

  He then fell to the floor and started to crawl.

  Jessie screamed.

  He looked like a monster in a scary movie.

  She screamed and shut her eyes and shook her head.

  Then the man screamed back at her.

  He could scream louder.

  It hurt Jessie’s ears.

  She covered her ears and stopped screaming.

  She could see the man just a couple feet away.

  And she could see his face.

  Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like she could call for help.

  But she didn’t know who the man was.

  There was blood on his face.

  Cuts on his left cheek. His left eye bleeding. His mouth bleeding.

  “I just wanted to see everyone safe,” he whispered. “Safe. Happy. A family. Do you know what a family is?”

  “Yes,” Jessie whispered.

  “Well that’s all I ever wanted. And it was taken… taken…”

  “M-m-m-mine too,” Jessie said.

  “How?” the man asked.

  “M-m-m-my parents… divorced… they hate each other.”

  The man smiled. “See? I knew it. There was a connection. It was there. That’s why I had to…” The man frowned. “And I messed it up. I messed it all up.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Jessie said.

  She had no idea what she was saying.

  “I did,” the man said. “I went back to get her. To get the one. That’s what she was. But she didn’t understand it. She kept saying her parents were rich. They had lots of money to give me. What do I want with money? What’s money going to do, right?”

  “Right,” Jessie said.

  “She and I… she wasn’t supposed to stop breathing… I just forgot… okay? I just forgot for a little while… that was all… and now I messed it up.”

  Jessie licked her lips. “Y-y-you didn’t mess anything up. I’m… I’m alive. Look.”

  The man’s eyes met Jessie’s.

  She shivered.

  “I should have never gone back there,” the man said. “I want to show you who you really are. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jessie said.

  The man reached for her. He touched her knee.

  He smiled. “Oh, my sweet Cindy… you’re really here, aren’t you? You’re really here…”

  Jessie nodded. “I’m kind of cold down here. I don’t feel good.”

  “Okay,” the man said. “We can go back upstairs. It’s a little bit of a mess.” He laughed. “I wasn’t expecting company…”

  He kept laughing.

  Jessie forced a fear filled smile.

  And her mind asked a new question.

  Who in the heck was Cindy?

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Miss Kesslier poked her head out of her apartment.

  “Any news?” she asked with a hopeful grin.

  “Not today,” I said.

  “Shoot. I thought today was the day.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’re home before Lo,” she said.

  “I’m going to be going right back out too.”

  “Have a lead?” Miss Kesslier asked, now coming out of her apartment.

  “I do,” I said.

  “Then you go, Allie,” she said. “I was making some meatballs for dinner. I’ll make sure Lo is fed. Okay?”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I know that. I want to.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m going to make sure I see Lo first.”

  “You tell her I’ll be over soon enough.”

  Miss Kesslier charged back inside.

  I heard a noise behind me and saw my other neighbor, Janelle.

  We gave each ot
her a wave and nothing more.

  Now that’s my kind of neighbor…

  I laughed to myself as I went inside the apartment.

  I paused at the table and put my phone down.

  Of course Cat threw Connor under the bus.

  She knew where the key went.

  Connor.

  She claimed he had a small safe where he hid things from her. Again, just more ammo for Cat’s insistent paranoia of her now ex-husband.

  But if Cat was telling the truth… I needed to know.

  If the key belonged to Connor, why was he at the spot where Lucy was found? Was he guilty of something? Or was he a grieving father trying to take the law into his own hands? Or maybe he got drunk like he did the night with his brother’s SUV.

  There wasn’t a single thing I could let be at the moment.

  It wasn’t ideal to be going in every which direction but I had no choice.

  I swiped my phone off the table and called Ben.

  “Detective Allie Down,” he said.

  “I have a lead.”

  “What?” His voice grew with excitement. “Seriously?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “What now?”

  “Cat pointed the finger at Connor.”

  Ben sighed. “Allie…”

  “I know. But listen to me, Ben. That key I found. I went to see Cat. She’s a mess, by the way.”

  “Can you blame her?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But my point is I showed her the key and she knew what the key went to. She described it in detail.”

  “Connor…”

  “A safe. Lockbox. Whatever you want to call it. She said he hid stuff in it.”

  “And that key just magically appears where Lucy was found?” Ben asked.

  “I can’t explain that yet,” I said. “I talked to Johnny and he said it could have been an oversight. There were a lot of people down there that night.”

  “I doubt anyone would have missed it…”

  “We didn’t get to look though, Ben. Not until later. And then in the daytime… I mean, it was down in the brush. If the sun hadn’t reflected on the key I wouldn’t have seen it.”

  “Okay, fine,” Ben said. “It’s Connor’s key. Now what?”

  “I talk to him. Gauge his reaction. If he can’t produce the lockbox and the key… we have something.”