An Unsettled Past

by C. L. Brees

  Mike hollered into the phone, but all he could hear in response was the sound of a male voice, moaning. He heard the muffled sounds of Alex and Amy screaming as if they were being gagged. Soon after, the last thing he heard before the phone line went dead was breaking glass crashing.

  He knew something horrific had just happened, and he raced towards his SUV which was parked just beyond the gate of the entrance. Reaching the vehicle, he flung open the door and jumped into the driver’s seat. He fearfully fumbled with his keys as he tried his hardest to keep his adrenaline in check. Once he was able to regain control of his keys he cranked the engine over and floored the pedal to the ground. He had to get there as soon as possible.

  9

  Mike sped down Old Orchard Boulevard as quickly as he could, which was difficult given the flooding conditions that had developed. His SUV came to a stop straightaway, barely missing the back of Alex’s BMW. Without hesitation he charged through mud and pools of water towards the back of the house. He reached the back corner of the house, and with his back to the brick wall and gun drawn, he quickly peeked around the corner—nothing in sight. He stealthily kept his back against the house as he moved closer towards the back fence that enclosed the backyard. The gate had been kicked inward towards the house.

  Without hesitation he ran at full speed towards the gate. Slowly, he peered around the corner; he didn’t want any surprises jumping out at him. As he continued working his way closer towards the back deck, he could see shards of glass spewed all over the wooden deck. Looking behind him as he entered the enclosed yard, he saw fresh tire tracks leading away from the house. These weren’t ordinary vehicle tire tracks; the width was too small. Cautiously, he continued up the small staircase leading to the deck. Even though he was trained for these types of situations, he’d never actually had to put that training to use. He was scared he was walking into something that he may not be able to get himself out of.

  Approaching the French door, he determined that this was the point of entry—or possibly the exit—the assailants used. Upon examining the door more closely, he could clearly see that the glass had been kicked outward from the inside. Not knowing what he would find when he finally made it inside, he mentally prepared himself for the worst case scenario. He took a deep breath as he inched closer and closer to the door. Once he was within about three meters from the door, he could hear the same voice he heard on the phone—whoever had been moaning was in agony. The person called out for help in a whimpered voice. Feeling confident that the attackers were long gone, Mike retrieved a small Maglite flashlight from his jacket pocket and shone the light into the house.

  With flashlight and gun in hand, he sprang into the house. Quickly scanning the room with the flashlight, he found John propped up against the dining room wall; he was bleeding immensely from a gunshot wound to his shoulder. He sprang into action as he removed his own button-down shirt and tied it around John’s shoulder to slow the bleeding.

  “John, it’s all going to be alright. Hang in there. Where is everyone else?”

  “They’re all gone. There were three people and they came in seconds after the lights went out. I sensed them, so I tried to grab ahold of one of them and instead of helping I ended up getting a bullet in. They busted the glass out from the door and escaped before I could go after them.”

  “We’ll find them; don’t worry. I need you to relax while I call for help. Can you do that for me?” “I’ll try. Please just hurry and get some help here. I don’t want to die.”

  “I’m not going to let you die,” Mike reiterated again.

  Setting the flashlight on the ground, Mike reached again in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed 911 and after a few rings a reassuring familiar voice answered the line.

  “Ridgewood Hills 911, what is your emergency?”

  “Hector? This is Officer Temple, and I have an emergency at 26 Old Orchard Boulevard East. I have an 18-year-old shooting victim. I’m requesting EMS and police assistance to my location as soon as possible.”

  “Mike! Alright I’m sending help right away. How bad is the situation? Is the victim conscious?” “He’s alert and conscious, but he’s losing a lot of blood, and I’m worried he may go into shock soon. Also, can you please notify that we have an abduction situation here as well.”

  “A shooting and an abduction. What is going on over there? Who’s been abducted?”

  “Three people, Alex Jones, Amy Williams, and Brandy, er, I don’t know her last name. Alex and Amy are eighteen and Brandy is twenty, I believe,” Mike informed the operator as his voice trembled with fear for the first time in his police career.

  “Officer Temple, the EMS and officers are on their way. Are you safe to stay where you are and aid if needed?”

  “I am. I’m going to go back and keep him occupied until they arrive. Thank you so much.”

  “Anytime. I hope this all works out.”

  He hung up the phone as he could hear in the far distance the sound of sirens wailing louder than the storm outside. He returned to John’s side to keep him talking and calm.

  “I’m back. You still with me?” he asked as John barely could get the words out.

  “I’m still here. Is help on the way? I’m starting to get really dizzy.”

  “Just stay awake. They are not too far away now. Can you tell me anything else about the people who took Alex and the girls?”

  “There were two male voices and one female voice. All I remember is screaming, and then it was quiet. I heard someone kick in the door and someone starting an engine out back. It didn’t sound like a car though.”

  “I saw the tire tracks out back; it looks like some sort of dirt bike. The crime scene unit will be able to determine what it actually was. Did you hear them say anything?”

  “I think they thought I was dead, because they were speaking freely amongst themselves. Their accent was Russian; I am about 99 percent sure of it. They kept going on and on about some cabin up in the mountains that no one would ever find them at,” he said as he cried out in pain.

  “John, come on buddy, everything is going to be fine, trust me. Did you hear anything else?” “It all happened so fast…the one guy asked the female how they were going to get out of here with all of the police swarming around the entrance.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she knew a secret way out of the subdivision and that she had a van waiting there for them.”

  “A secret exit? Strange how I don’t know of a secret exit out of here.”

  “Her voice though, it sounded so familiar to me. I know I’ve heard it before, but I just can’t place it.”

  “You’ve been a huge help. I need you to relax now,” Mike said reassuringly, as he heard a pounding at the front door.

  Mike picked himself off the floor and dashed to the front door to allow the EMTs access to the house. They knelt down next to John and began working quickly to get him stable enough to transport him to the awaiting ambulance that sat in the middle of the boulevard, lights strobing and drawing attention from the neighbors. Once they were able to insert an IV, they placed him on a stretcher and rushed him out the front door. Mike stayed by his side as they descended down the walkway. As Mike scanned the typically quiet street, he saw a few of the nosier neighbors standing in their driveways watching the drama unfold. The EMTs quickly opened the back doors and loaded him in as Mike stood watching helplessly, nodding his head reassuringly towards John to let him know that everything was going to be alright now.

  As the rear doors of the ambulance closed, it suddenly dawned on him how the suspects got out without any police noticing. The subdivision was building another entrance from the west side of the development. It was still under construction and still wasn’t widely known about.

  As the ambulance sped away from the scene, Mike ran towards his SUV. He raced backwards from the driveway and drove west on Old Orchard Boulevard. He sped by house after house, determined to find out exact
ly how they escaped without detection. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed his sergeant’s number as he sharply turned left onto Cherry Tree Lane. After a few rings, his sergeant answered the phone harshly.

  “Temple, this better be damn good—this is my day off.”

  “Trust me, you’ll be getting called in for this one. I’m sure of it. I just left the scene of a shooting where an eighteen-year-old was shot and three others were kidnapped from the Apple Valley Country Club.”

  “A shooting and kidnapping from the most exclusive subdivision on this side of Denver? Impossible,” he barked.

  “I’m telling you the truth. I think I’ve figured out how they got away without anyone noticing though. I’m on my way there now to check it out.”

  “Check out what? I thought you were at a crime scene at Apple Valley only twenty minutes ago?”

  “I was on the phone with Alex when I heard the gunshot, so I left Peterson in charge of the crime scene and raced back to Alex’s house. Sadly, by the time I arrived back there, everything had already happened.”

  “Jesus. So you say you know how they escaped—do tell.”

  “I forgot about the new entrance they were building along Apache Center Road. I’m almost there, and I’ll be able to tell you soon enough if that’s what they used to get out.”

  “I had no idea they were even building a new entrance. Why would they add more access points to the most sought after subdivision in the state?” “Well, you know how rich people are—they yell enough about something and they get what they want.”

  “Well, dammit—have you arrived there yet or not, Temple?”

  “I’m just pulling up now. Standby.”

  He slowly pulled up to the frame of the new guard shack they were building. He put the Escalade into park and opened his door stepping out into the misty air. He retrieved his flashlight from his jacket and shone the light towards the ground. The same tire treads from the rear of Alex’s house continued on past the construction site.

  “That’s how they did it alright; the same tire treads are here that I discovered in the rear of the Jones home.”

  “Let me get dressed, but in the meantime go back to the crime scene and speak with Detective Scott. I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”

  Racing back to the car he exclaimed, “Will do. I’ll see you over there soon.”

  As Mike drove back towards the homicide scene of the guard shack, he couldn’t help but recall all of the information that Alex had passed on to him within the past thirty-six hours. The white van with the two men, the Russian letters that he discovered in his mother’s office—none of it was adding up to him. Mike knew he had to get to the bottom of all of this if he was going to have any chance in hell of saving Alex.

  As he raced back to the main entrance, all he could think of was what had happened to Alex, Brandy, and Amy. The outrageous thoughts raced through his mind and began to piss him off. He suddenly slammed both of his hands on the steering wheel. He didn’t usually lose his temper so easily, but knowing that the person he loved had been abducted caused his blood to boil over. He pulled up to the command post and parked behind an unmarked squad car. He hoped that Detective Scott hadn’t yet left for the hospital to check on John. He pulled his hood over his head as he approached Detective Scott and one of the crime scene supervisors who were standing under the awning of the mobile crime lab.

  “Mike, about time you got here. Can you tell me what in the hell is going on lately? I think we’ve broken some sort of record with the number of homicides in two days.”

  “I have no idea what’s going on. All I can say is that this night has been a total disaster,” Mike declared as a clap of thunder shook the earth beneath their feet.

  “Not the best conditions to be handling a crime scene, that’s for sure.”

  “I’d prefer we weren’t handling a crime scene. So what are we up to now, five homicides, a disappearance, and three people kidnapped in less than forty-eight hours?”

  Nodding his head in agreement, Detective Scott looked at Mike and assented, “Absolutely insane if you ask me. Do you have any information about what happened on Old Orchard a little while ago?”

  “All I know is what the shooting victim recounted: three people appear to have already been inside the home when they arrived back. The lights went out, and that’s when all hell broke loose. I was able to determine that they used some sort of dirt bike or small 4x4 to escape through the entrance under construction off of Apache Center. From there all John—I mean our victim—heard was they were heading for a cabin in the mountains somewhere no one would find them.”

  “Interesting. I’ll go and put a trace on all of their phones. Maybe something will come up.”

  Mike and Detective Scott stood there chatting back and forth as a tall, lean, older gentlemen began approaching them from an unmarked black SUV. Mike caught sight of him in the distance and stopped his conversation. He nervously awaited the gentleman’s approach.

  “Temple, I have just two questions for you: first, what in the hell is going on around here? Second, how long have you known about any of this?”

  “So, um, to start off sir, I’m very sorry to disturb you on your day off. To answer your first question, I have no clue what’s going on—you and I both know that all of this is unusual.”

  Detective Scott interjected in the conversation, “Sergeant Reed, you can’t blame any of this on Temple. He’s done a fine job of offering information. Did you really expect him to take the word of four teenagers who, for all we know concocted all of this in their minds?”

  “I suppose not, Scott, but a heads up would have been nice.”

  “Sir, honestly, I had no idea that anything was really connected until tonight right before dinner. You know me; if I had any idea that these unconnected events from the past two days were going to lead us up to tonight’s main event, I would have told you sooner than now.”

  “We’ll discuss all of this later. Right now, we have four missing people to locate,” he barked as he walked away towards the command post that was set-up just outside of the mobile crime lab.

  Mike followed him, attempting to explain more in detail of what he knew. “Sir, with all due respect, I spoke with the shooting victim, John, and all he could recall was that there were indeed three kidnappers: one female and two males. He insisted they spoke with Russian accents and that he had heard the female voice before, but he couldn’t place it.”

  Swiftly turning around towards Mike, Sergeant Reed snapped, “How in the hell does any of that help us now, Temple?”

  “It helps, sir, because the victim told us they were taking them to a secluded cabin in the mountains. Not sure which mountains, but it’s a start.”

  “Temple, go home and change, take a breather, and I want you back here in one hour. With this weather it’s impossible to send a helicopter searching for them. When you get back I expect some ideas on how we are going to locate these missing folks. Go—you look disheveled and I can’t have any of my officers looking that way. You need to get your emotions under control,” Sgt. Reed instructed, as Mike nodded his head in agreement.

  “Yes sir, I’ll be back in one hour.”

  Driving away from the entrance to Apple Valley, Mike clicked the radio on. It was still stuck on the country station that Alex had left it on just before dinner. His eyes began to swell with tears, and he tried his hardest to fight the urge to cry. He reached the stop sign at the end of the road. Turning his signal on, he turned right onto Valley View Boulevard. He sped down the dark road as quickly as he could. He knew time was of the essence, and he didn’t want to waste any of it going the speed limit. As he approached the intersection with Mountain Pass Road, the light changed to red. Looking ahead and off to his left he could see the 7-11 on the corner. A lone piece of yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the wind. That piece of crime scene tape caused him to flash back to the robbery that took place only a day previously.

  He shouted aloud in hi
s car, “Whoever is doing this knew Alex’s routine! They knew he was going to be at that store at that time. How could I have not seen this before?”

  The traffic light turned green, and he turned right onto Mountain Pass Road. He was only a short distance from his apartment at this point. It wasn’t even two minutes later that he arrived at the intersection with Sixth Street. He turned left and crossed under the freeway. Just after the freeway on-ramps was the entrance to his apartment complex.

  He pulled in, turning once and locating his parking space. He pulled the vehicle in and placed the SUV in park. He turned the engine off and sighed as he sat in the vehicle looking onward. He was exhausted, and it was quickly catching up with him. He flung the driver’s side door open and stepped out onto the wet asphalt beneath him. His apartment door was a few feet from where he had parked. He finally arrived at the door and inserted his key into the deadbolt. Once indoors, he began stripping his clothes from his body. He grasped his undershirt and pants as he made his way towards the bedroom. As he passed his bed, he threw the clothes onto it and walked into the bathroom. Just as he reached for the light switch around the corner of the wall, his attention was diverted to a small, black four by six frame that sat on his desk. In the frame was a photo of him and Alex that had been taken just a few months prior in Vail. He reached down and picked up the photo gently, held it in both of his hands, and leaned up against the door frame of the bathroom. His emotions were starting to get the better of him, and suddenly an avalanche of morbid thoughts rushed over him. He spoke aloud as he grasped the picture frame. “Why hadn’t I been the best boyfriend in the world? Why do I always feel the need to put the job over my happiness?”

  10