Four

by Jane Blythe

  Laura had had her head held repeatedly under water. Not to kill her, just to increase her suffering. As if they hadn’t already done enough to her.

  “The hikers all checked out?”

  “Yes. When Laura was recovered enough to give her statement, she gave the names and descriptions of the men who had assaulted her. Although she didn’t know their surname, only that they called each other Frank and Francis, they were quickly identified and arrested. Frank and Francis Garrett lived close to where Laura was found—they were virtual recluses who lived off the land. Their DNA was found inside Laura, and given her positive IDs, it was a slam-dunk case. Only, the Garrett brothers decided to plead not guilty by reason of diminished capacity. They claimed that they were raised by an abusive father and were not sent to school or allowed to socialize, and thus never learned right from wrong, and, as such, couldn’t be held responsible for their actions. Which meant that Laura had to then endure a long trial. Luckily, the brothers were found guilty and are both still in prison.”

  “If the men who abducted and assaulted her are in prison, then why do we think that Laura is the woman our killer is after?” Belinda looked confused.

  “We believe there may have been a third man involved,” Jack jumped in. He knew that Laura was the target. He knew it. Knew it with an all-encompassing sense of desperation that their time was running out. If they didn’t find this man first, then he was terrified that the price to pay would be Laura’s life.

  “Based on?” Belinda prompted.

  “Based on the fact that the Garretts’ truck wasn't used in the abduction. The police checked it out after they had the Garrett brothers in custody and they couldn’t find any evidence that Laura had ever been in it. Given that whoever abducted her had had to knock her unconscious to take her. As evidenced by the blood and hair samples in her house, there would have been something in the van. The van hadn’t been recently cleaned, either,” Jack added, guessing what his boss was going to say next. “The police questioned the brothers on it, but they wouldn’t say how Laura was taken to their place, and given that they had enough with the DNA and IDs, they didn’t push the issue.”

  “So, you think that whoever transported Laura is this mystery third man, and the one who’s committing these crimes now is trying get her back because he’s angry that she got away the first time?”

  “Yes.” Jack nodded his agreement to his boss’ summary. “The similarities between what he’s doing now and what was done to Laura are too similar to be ignored.”

  “He knows where she is, why not just grab her?” Belinda put forward. “So, this might add some additional terror, but really, assuming he’s going to recreate what he did to her the first time around, that would be terror enough.”

  “I was thinking about that since we visited Laura yesterday.” Jack paused thoughtfully. “Laura is understandably traumatized by what she went through; she has five deadbolts on her door, breaking in there wouldn’t be easy. Certainly not like breaking into the other apartments. And there is no way she would open her door to anyone. If the killer suspected that getting into Laura’s place to grab her would be near impossible, then perhaps he thought he could scare her into leaving. Then once she came out of that apartment, he would be able to grab her.”

  “Not a bad theory,” Belinda acknowledged. “Okay, I'm convinced. So, if we believe Laura is the target and in danger, why haven’t you brought her into protective custody?”

  “Two problems with that.” Jack grimaced. Bringing Laura into protective custody was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to lock her away someplace safe until this was all over. In fact, the urge to simply throw her over his shoulder and carry her from her apartment had been near overwhelming when they'd been there earlier. “Laura doesn’t think any of this is about her. She’s convinced that there was no third man and that her ordeal is over. And she's also agoraphobic. She can't go outside. She told us she hasn’t left the apartment since she moved in there. There is no way she’s going to agree to leave that place, and I'm concerned about the effects—physically and psychologically—on her if we forcibly remove her.”

  “Okay, then let’s figure out who is after her before we need to further traumatize her by taking her out of her apartment against her will. Which I will do if it comes down to it.” Belinda shot him a warning glance.

  “We’ll speak with her family, see if they have any ideas on who could be after Laura.” Jack tried to hide his wince as he said it. He was not one of Laura’s parents’ favorite people, given how badly he’d hurt their daughter. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a hindrance to the interview.

  “We’ll also go and speak with the Garrett brothers,” Rose added. “See if after all these years, they’re ready to be more forthcoming about who else was involved.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Belinda seemed pleased with their progress. “We found the woman, now let’s find the man who wants her dead.”

  * * * * *

  10:14 A.M.

  It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

  Laura had been lying on her living room floor repeating the mantra to herself ever since Jack and his partner left.

  Frank and Francis Garrett were the men who had hurt her.

  She should know.

  They hadn’t been worried about her seeing their faces because they had thought that she was never getting away alive.

  They hadn’t known that three hikers, who just happened to be passing by, would find her bruised, bleeding, and passed out.

  The Garrett brothers had just finished another round of torturing her.

  Francis had held her down while Frank had raped her so roughly that she had been left bleeding.

  She had stopped fighting back by then.

  What good did it do?

  She was never going to beat them. They were bigger and stronger, and by that time, she was too weak and injured to do anything anyway.

  Then Francis had wrapped his hands around her neck, tightening and tightening until no air could get into her lungs.

  He’d done it before.

  Many times.

  Her vision would start to explode into hundreds of tiny white dots; her hearing would fade, and then just when she was on the verge of unconsciousness, he would let go.

  And she would lie there, desperately gasping in each precious breath of air through her aching throat.

  When they’d left her, laughing as they always did, she had tried to move.

  Instinctively, she knew that moving, that continuing to search for help, was her only chance at surviving this.

  But she had been unable to move.

  Even an inch.

  Her body had given up on her.

  She had known it would at some point.

  The trauma it had been through was severe.

  Still, she had kept desperately trying to keep moving.

  Even to drag herself along the ground, if she couldn’t stand up.

  But her body had been uncooperative.

  So, she had just laid there.

  And when unconsciousness had tugged at the corners of her mind, her exhausted body had given in immediately.

  She had been ripped back to consciousness when she felt hands on her.

  The Garretts were back.

  She had made a somewhat feeble attempt at fending them off, before she realized the hands that were on her were different.

  They were gentle hands.

  Helping hands, not hurting hands.

  As her vision had returned, she had made out three faces hovering above her. Two females and one male.

  Kind faces.

  Worried faces.

  They had wrapped her up in warm blankets.

  They had offered soothing words of comfort that she was safe now.

  Her larynx was too badly damaged by repeated strangulation to produce any words, but her panicked face must have spoken volumes.

  The man had pulled out a gun, and left the two women to tend to her while
he kept watch, in case whoever hurt her had returned.

  Content in the knowledge that she was safe now, she had rested in one of the women’s arms, drifting in and out of consciousness until help arrived.

  Then she had been sedated and rushed to the hospital.

  When she’d awakened, hours later, her mother had been sitting at her bedside, clutching her hand.

  Laura had cried. Her mother had cried. Laura had tried to tell her that she loved her, but her voice still wasn't working properly.

  The police had arrived shortly after she had woken up.

  Between her hoarse voice, her heavy limbs and broken fingers, Laura had managed to half speak and half write down what had happened to her.

  It had taken her battered body several days to be strong enough for her doctors to discharge her. She had battled pneumonia and infections. The cuts on her feet had made walking difficult at first.

  But the physical injuries had been nothing compared to the psychological ones.

  The nightmares had started that first night. The flashbacks not long after.

  But at least by the time she had been released from the hospital, Frank and Francis Garrett had been arrested.

  It had been that fact that was the only thing that kept her going in those early days.

  The fact that it was over.

  And it was over.

  Laura didn’t think she could handle it if it wasn't.

  There was no third man.

  She would have known if there was someone else out there.

  Only, there was one little thing bothering her about that.

  She didn’t think it was Frank or Francis who had grabbed her at her house.

  She had convinced herself she was wrong, of course. Who else could it have been? And the Garrett brothers had definitely been there in the woods.

  But the man who had been waiting for her in the house had been taller and more muscled.

  She had fought wildly against him when he had wrapped his arms around her.

  Even managed to twist free for a moment.

  Then he’d been on her again.

  Slamming her head into the doorframe.

  The world had exploded into agony and she’d blacked out.

  She hadn’t woken up again until she was out in the woods.

  So, it was possible that there had been someone else there during that time.

  And Jack and Rose had said that what he was doing now was mirroring what the Garretts had done to her.

  Abduction, rape, then that woman had been burned and cut and strangled, just like she had been.

  Could it be true?

  Could Jack be right?

  Could there really have been a third man who had now come back for her?

  If there was, would he get to her?

  Jack said there were cops at her door and that she was safe, but was she?

  If there was someone after her and he got her, then what did he intend to do to her?

  She had a horrible feeling she knew the answer to that already.

  No.

  It wasn't true.

  She wouldn’t believe it.

  Jack and Rose were wrong.

  This had nothing to do with her.

  There was no third man.

  There wasn't, there couldn't be … she began to sob.

  * * * * *

  12:26 P.M.

  “You nervous about seeing them?” Rose asked as they parked in front of Laura’s parents’ house.

  “Mmhmm,” Jack nodded. He was indeed anxious about seeing Mick and Karen Opal again after what he’d done to their daughter. He had avoided them after he and Laura had split. It had been close to the end of their senior year anyway, and then he’d been off to college. By the time he returned, the Opals had moved.

  “Let’s go get it over with, then.” Rose climbed from the car and started for the front door.

  The Opals’ house was small, a single-story brick structure surrounded by an absolutely gorgeous front garden. Jack remembered that Laura’s mother had adored gardening. When they were kids, they had loved eating fresh fruit and vegetables that Karen had grown. Then there were the flowers, hundreds of them in every color imaginable, all perfectly arranged. When they were dating, Jack had often picked bouquets of flowers for Laura from her mother’s garden. Although on a smaller scale, Karen had recreated her magnificent gardens in her new home.

  “You want me to lead the interview, since they probably aren’t too keen on you?” Rose asked as she rang the bell.

  “I’ll start, but if they aren’t too receptive to me, then you can take over,” Jack replied, straightening his spine as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and it swung open.

  “May I help…?” Mick Opal broke off as he spied Jack, his face growing fierce. “Jack Xander. The man who broke my baby’s heart.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Opal.” Jack attempted a smile.

  “Get off my property at once or I'm calling the police,” Mick growled, already closing the door.

  “Mr. Opal, please, I need to talk to you about Laura.”

  He huffed mirthlessly. “I wouldn’t talk to you about Laura if you were the last person on the planet. You broke her heart,” Mick said again.

  “Mick, who’s at the…?” Karen appeared beside her husband, her face, so like Laura’s, going stony when she saw him. “What is he doing here?” she asked her husband.

  “Leaving,” Mick answered.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Opal,” he tried again, convincing Laura’s parents to let him in the door was turning out to be even harder than he had anticipated.

  “That’s it, I'm calling the police,” Mick declared.

  “I am the police,” he reminded them. “Please, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn't important. It’s about Laura; I think she’s in trouble.”

  This caused them both to pause. Karen’s face grew pale. “Laura? In trouble?”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Mick was going with suspicious.

  “Please, may I come in?”

  He glanced at his wife, and when Karen nodded, Mick sighed and took a step backward to allow them to enter. They followed Karen into a small living room, filled with the furniture he remembered from their old house. Karen sat down on one of the two sofas, Mick sitting beside her, he and Rose taking the opposite one.

  “This is my partner, Rose. And these are Laura’s parents, Mick and Karen Opal.” He made the introductions.

  Karen merely nodded, her attention focused solely on him. “Have you seen her, Jack?” Her violet eyes were looking at him desperately, as though she were dying and he alone held the key to her salvation.

  “Yes,” he confirmed, knowing how scared and concerned Laura’s parents must have been all these years, knowing their daughter needed them, but unable to go to her.

  Karen gasped, her hands moving to cover her mouth. Then she dropped them to her lap as she asked, “Is she okay?”

  He was unsure how to answer that. Laura wasn't okay physically or psychologically, but she was coping as best she could. He didn’t want to worry her parents further though by telling them that she was struggling. “She’s hanging in there,” was what he finally settled on. “I know you haven’t seen her in ten years.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and Karen nodded. “Did she call you?”

  “No, I just stumbled upon her yesterday during an investigation. That’s why I'm here. I think Laura may be in danger.”

  “In danger?” Fear flashed through Mick’s eyes. “What sort of danger?”

  “I think there may have been a third person involved in Laura’s attack.”

  “Laura never mentioned a third man,” Mick said, confusion lacing his tone.

  “She may not have known. But I believe there was another man and that he’s not happy that Laura was rescued. I think he wants to get his hands on her, finish what he started. He’s been recreating her assault in her apartment building using random residents,” he explained gently.
>
  Shock marred both their faces. “No.” Karen shook her head. “Laura’s been through so much. You must be wrong.”

  “I don’t think I'm wrong, Mrs. Opal,” he said apologetically. “We need to know if you can think of anyone who could have been involved in her attack.”

  “You really think someone wants to hurt her?” Karen’s voice trembled.

  “Yes.” He nodded. Unfortunately, he did. Holding up the sketch, he asked, “Do you recognize this man?”

  “No,” Mick replied. “I mean, he looks like he could be anyone, but not specifically.”

  “We told the police at the time that we didn’t know anyone who would want to hurt our little girl. But Laura was in college, she wouldn’t have told us everything that was going on in her life,” Karen explained.

  “I don’t think she dated much, she was too busy studying and working,” Mick added. “We met a few of her friends, they all seemed like great kids. And her roommates were all nice, too, no troublemakers.”

  “Did she have a particular friend she might have confided in?” Jack asked.

  “Her closest friend was Matilda Warren, the girl who was killed,” Karen responded. “I remember having to tell her that Matilda was dead. Laura was still in the hospital, she got so upset that they had to sedate her.” Tears began to trickle unnoticed down her cheeks. “Seeing my baby like that was horrendous. What they did to her …” She shook her head as though unable to comprehend it.

  Jack struggled to reign in his fury. If he could get away with it, he would rip Frank and Francis Garrett to pieces with his bare hands. “I know. I've seen the pictures.”

  She shuddered. “I’ve seen the pictures, too—in court. But they were nothing compared to the real thing. I wanted to help my little girl so badly, but I didn’t know what to do for her. Seeing her walk around in a daze and looking at me with those haunted eyes, it just broke my heart. That’s why she left. She couldn’t deal with her own grief, let alone everyone else’s.”

  “Did she tell you she was leaving?”

  “No,” Mick answered quietly. “The day the verdict came back guilty, we wanted to celebrate. We hoped Laura would be able to get some closure, but she said she needed some time to herself. When we got back home, she was gone. She’d left a note, telling us not to worry and that she was okay but that she needed to be alone.”