Missing in Cottonwood Springs

by Dianne Harman

  After she took a few more steps she saw a small building in front of them. It appeared to be made from some sort of plywood and painted in greens, greys, and blacks to make it blend in with its surroundings. It was just on the edge of the opposite side of the trees.

  “Is that it?” she asked.

  “Sure is. Actually, it’s one of the nicer blinds I’ve ever been in. There’s even a floor in there.” As they got closer, Brigid saw the floor set into the back of it. When they got to the door, Sheriff Davis pulled it open. “Ladies first,” he said.

  Brigid stepped inside. “You’re right, Corey, it is pretty nice, not that I’ve been in any hunting blinds like this before,” she admitted. “What’s the point to all this?” She looked around at the bare wood interior and tried to make sense of it. Along the back was a built-in wooden bench, worn from people sitting on it. On the other side was a rectangular opening with netting hanging down. Only the top was attached, leaving it hanging like a curtain that just barely made it down past the window.

  “Hunters use blinds so the animals can’t see ‘em. Some guys use tree stands which are like seats that attach high up in a tree. Others use blinds like this. Most of the time they ain’t this well built. A lot of ‘em are jes’ tents or somethin’ like that. Somebody put a lot of time and effort into buildin’ this one,” he said as he looked around.

  “What’s with the window and the netting?” Brigid asked as she sat down on the bench.

  “The window is so you can see yer’ prey. I suppose they put the nettin’ up to make it harder to see inside. They’d jes’ lift it up when they’re aimin’ their gun at their target,” he explained.

  “Interesting,” Brigid said. “Seems like a lot goes into hunting. More than I’d ever expected.”

  “Ya’d be surprised,” he chuckled. “Some guys get real serious about it.”

  “I can tell,” she said. “So what do we do now?”

  “Fer right now, we wait. I suspect they’ll come after full dark like they done last night. I gotta’ make sure they pull up in the field and are fully on the property before I can do anythin’. I gotta’ ask you a question. How sure of yerself’ are you with that gun?” he asked as he nodded toward the pistol on her hip.

  “I’ve gone to the gun range off and on with it,” she said. “Linc likes to make sure I can hit something with it.”

  “Well, I seen ya’ use a gun once, and you was purty good. Don’t mean to be rude, but if yer’ my partner at the moment, I jes’ wanna’ make sure yer’ good. Don’t mean nothin’ personal,” he said. Brigid couldn’t blame him. He probably wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to end up getting accidently shot in the process.

  “I’m sure I’m good enough to hit someone at this distance, if need be,” she said as she looked out the window towards the storage container.

  “Then that’s good enough fer me,” he said as he followed her line of sight. “Thinkin’ is I come up on one side of the container, and ya’ come up on the other. I’ll make myself known first, so if they got weapons, they’ll fire on me. I got a coupla’ deputies who are close by if we need ‘em. The truck ain’t exactly made for takin’ suspects into custody.”

  Brigid nodded. “So they’re just waiting for your signal to swoop in and help clean up the mess?”

  “Purty much,” he said laughing. “But for now, we jes’ gonna’ havta’ wait.”

  “I can do that. Thought we might have a little dead time, so I brought a snack for us, butterscotch bars. Here, take one,” she said, pulling two out of her pocket.

  “Man, that’s an added bonus to the night,” Corey said as he finished the brownie. “Ya’ can bring them along anytime we got a stakeout.”

  “Corey, let’s think positive. Let’s think we only got to have these tonight, because we won’t be back for any more stakeouts. We’re going to get them tonight.”

  “Like the way ya’ think, girl.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The sun had fully set when Brigid spotted headlights coming down the road. They weren’t moving very fast, and Sheriff Davis doubted that it was them.

  “They was drivin’ faster than that last night. That’s probably just someone headin’ home late from work,” he grumbled.

  “I don’t know, Corey, I think it may be them,” Brigid muttered as they watched the lights approaching. Sure enough, they slowed even more as they approached the field.

  “It’s show time,” Sheriff Davis said as he reached for his gun. Sitting on the edge of the bench, he waited, and watched.

  The white van pulled in, bumping over clumps of grass and the rough ground of the field. It finally came to a stop with its headlights shining directly on the side of the storage container. Brigid held her breath as she watched, her eyes straining to see past the bright headlights.

  Both doors of the van opened and two men got out. Brigid recognized them as being the same two she’d seen at the motel the previous day. She heard the men speaking to each other in low tones. As they approached the storage container, Sheriff Davis motioned to Brigid that they were going to make their move. Silently, they crept out of the hunting blind and through the grass.

  Brigid slipped her gun from the holster on her belt and clicked the safety off. She was sure the men would be able to hear her heart beating even though she was quite a distance from them. It was hard work keeping her breath slow and steady. Every nerve in her body wanted to start screaming in panic, but she resisted the urge and silently moved forward. Her thoughts raced as she wondered if she was really a good enough shot to be of any use, but it was too late to change her mind.

  Corey motioned for her to go around the other side of the container and they split up. Brigid kept the metal wall right next to her as she slowly took long steps, hoping that they couldn’t hear the extra rustling through the grass. The sound of it brushing up against her would surely give her away.

  However, they didn’t seem to notice. They continued to mumble to each other, but Brigid’s blood was rushing in her ears too loudly to focus on what they were saying. She heard the rattle of keys and the sound of a metal padlock being opened. Then she heard Sheriff Davis bellow, “Freeze, Sheriff’s Department!”

  Brigid stepped away from the safety of the storage container and assumed a two-handed shooting stance with her gun pointed at the two men. Both turned in her direction, no doubt contemplating running. When they saw her step into the light, they both raised their hands, but one of them took off in the only direction left, behind them. Just as quickly, Sheriff Davis fired, shooting the man in the leg. Crying out in pain, he hit the ground, clutching his leg where he’d been shot.

  “105 and 106,” Sheriff Davis said into his radio, “Ready for ya’.” He turned his attention back to the men they had at gunpoint, and pulled out his handcuffs. Thankfully, he was prepared and had two sets on him. “Ya’ have the right to remain silent. Anything ya’ say, can and will be used against ya’ in a court of law…,” he began.

  “We didn’t do nothin’,” the man who was still standing said. “We’re just doing work for our boss. This is discrimination.” His voice grew to a higher pitch as Sheriff Davis slapped the cuffs on him.

  “Ya’ have the right to an attorney. If ya’ can’t afford one, one will be appointed fer you,” Corey continued, unphased by the man’s objections. Meanwhile, the other man was thrashing around on the ground as he cried out in pain.

  Two sets of headlights approached the area at high speed coming from opposite ends of the road. The two deputies wasted no time getting there and parking, so that their headlights lit up more of the area. One, a truck as well, had a light bar that they switched on which lit up the entire area.

  As the deputies jogged up to assist the sheriff, Brigid let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Putting the safety back on and holstering her gun, she looked around the area. She could see where the men had driven up to the storage container before from the beaten-down grass and multiple tire t
racks.

  Brigid heard the sound of a loud thud coming from the van and turned toward the sheriff and his deputies. “Did you guys hear that?” she asked.

  None of them were paying any attention to her, preoccupied with cuffing the suspects and dealing with the one who had been shot and was bleeding. She heard them request an ambulance as she crept closer to the white van. Stepping past the door, she listened closely, wondering if perhaps what she’d heard was only her imagination. That’s when she heard it again. Thump.

  Moving faster, she went to the back of the van. She began to reach for the handle and then stopped. What about fingerprints? Would hers mess something up if she were to touch it? Putting her hand under her shirt, she used it like a glove to gently pull on the handle, and the door popped open. Once she saw what was inside, she gasped.

  “Corey! Come here, now,” she cried out as she climbed inside.

  Huddled in the corner of the van was a small person with their hands tied behind their back and a hood pulled over their head. Walking hunched over towards the back of the van, Brigid heard Sheriff Davis arrive at the back of the van.

  “Oh, my Lord,” he said in a hushed tone. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it on the person who was still in the darkness of the van, even with all the lights outside.

  The person squealed and tried to retreat farther back, scrambling with a crab-like motion along the floor of the van, despite their arms and legs being bound.

  “Shhh,” Brigid said softly. “I’m here to help you.”

  Reaching out, Brigid tugged the hood from the person’s face and saw that it was a young girl. She was about Holly’s age, maybe a year or two younger. Her dirty blonde hair was tangled. Her eyes were wide with fear until she was able to focus, and then she seemed to calm down. There was a bandana tied around her mouth, keeping her from speaking.

  “I’m going to untie you now,” Brigid said carefully. In the distance, she heard the approaching ambulance.

  “Here’s my knife if ya’ need it,” Sheriff Davis said, as he slid it across the van floor. “I gotta’ help my guys load up the bad guys. Help her out, and see if ya’ can find out where she’s from,” he said before walking away.

  Brigid untied the bandana from the girl’s mouth first.

  “Are you okay?” Brigid asked as she pulled it away.

  The girl nodded. “I think so.”

  “What’s your name?” Brigid asked gently.

  “Kelly Bingham. I’m from Sunset Grove,” she squeaked. “I was just walking home and… and,” the girl began before she burst into tears.

  “Shhh. It’s okay, Kelly. You’re safe now,” Brigid said as she picked up the knife and began cutting at the nylon rope that was looped around the girl’s ankles. Once her legs were free, she turned the girl around and cut the rope that was tied to her wrists. “Let’s get you out of this van,” Brigid said as she helped the girl up.

  While they were getting out of the van, one of the deputies returned with Sheriff Davis.

  “This is Kelly. She’s from Sunset Grove,” Brigid told them.

  “Hey, Kelly. This is Deputy Schinstock. He’s gonna’ take ya’ down to the sheriff’s station. After I take yer’ statement there, this lady, Brigid, will call yer’ parents,” Sheriff Davis said.

  The girl gave Brigid one last long look before walking away with the deputy.

  “Let’s go see what they’ve been up to in the storage container. Good job on findin’ the girl. Seems we were lucky, or she was. Either way, she’s gonna’ be goin’ home after her ordeal, thanks to you,” the sheriff said as they walked over to the container.

  “I heard her making a thumping sound in the van. I think she must have heard you yell ‘Sheriff’s Department’ and was trying to get our attention,” Brigid said. She was still a bit shocked from the whole thing. When she’d opened the van’s door, she’d never expected to see a helpless young girl huddled in the corner. The way she’d tried to get away when she heard Brigid drawing closer was seared into Brigid’s memory. She wasn’t quite sure how she would ever manage to get that out of her mind.

  “Still, ya’ done good.” Sheriff Davis had on black rubber gloves as he reached for the padlock on the door of the storage container. The owner’s keys were still hanging from the bottom of it, but the lock had been sprung. The sheriff turned it to the open position and pulled it free before undoing the latch and pulling hard on the door. A loud groan came from the door as it slowly swung open. Inside, all they could see was darkness.

  Sheriff Davis pulled his flashlight from his hip and shined it into the inky blackness of the storage container.

  “Oh my God,” he said. Inside, there were three people sitting up with their hands shading their eyes to block the light from Corey’s flashlight. Two were women, roughly in their twenties, while the other one was a young boy who looked to be about eleven. All were dirty and disheveled.

  “Olivia? Is that you?” Corey said as he gasped, looking at his friend Mike’s wife.

  “Corey?” the woman asked as she tried to stand up from the pile of dirty blankets on the floor.

  “Take yer’ time, Olivia. The rest of ya’, too. Ya’ can come out now,” Sheriff Davis said. “We’re with the Sheriff’s Department. Y’all are goin’ home,” he said.

  They sobbed and hugged each other before they were strong enough to walk towards the light.

  “You were right, Olivia. You told us the sheriff would save us, and he did,” said the other woman. Brigid felt herself well up with emotion as the three of them stepped out of the huge metal storage container and out onto the tall grass. Each one looked up at the night sky with tears rolling silently down their cheeks.

  CHAPTER 21

  Except for the man who’d been shot, everyone else was transported to the sheriff’s station. The wounded man was on his way to the hospital with a deputy to get treatment before heading to jail. The other suspect was locked in the back of a sheriff’s patrol car, safely away from everyone else’s view.

  The deputies headed back out to the field to document the scene, while Brigid and Sheriff Davis went to the sheriff’s station to talk to the victims and get official statements from them. The deputies that remained at the crime scene needed to photograph and analyze everything to be sure they built a solid case against the suspects. After seeing the conditions Olivia and the others had been kept in, everyone wanted to make sure the two men would be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

  They’d been locked inside the metal storage container with nothing but a bucket to use as a restroom and blankets on the floor. They told Brigid and the others that there were small holes in the ceiling that let in a bit of light, but it had been fairly dark most of the time.

  After they’d been transported to the sheriff’s station, the three victims who had been locked in the storage container sat in wooden chairs, while Brigid sat behind one of the deputy’s desks. Corey told her he was going to take Olivia’s statement first, and then those of the three other victims.

  Brigid thought it seemed strange to be in the sheriff’s station so late in the evening. On other occasions when she’d been there it was a hub of activity with people bustling around and working on one thing or another. Now it was quiet.

  “How are you doing, Kelly?” Brigid asked the young girl. Kelly had been nervously chewing on her nails ever since they’d arrived and from the looks of them, probably long before that.

  “I’m okay,” she said as she pulled the blanket that was draped around her shoulders closer. “Pretty shook up, but I think I’m okay.”

  “That’s good,” Brigid said. “How did you end up in the back of that van? What made you bang on the floor?”

  “I was walking home from a friend’s house. I took a shortcut, because I was running late, and my parents threatened to ground me if I was ever late again. I heard a vehicle coming, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. People are always coming and going on that shortcut. No big deal. It wasn’t
until I heard a door open and saw two men rushing toward me that I knew I was in trouble. I tried to fight them off, but they were too strong and quick. Next thing I knew they had me tied up in the back of the van.”

  She looked as though she was still in shock, but the fact that she was speaking so clearly was a good sign. “I heard the sheriff call out, so when things got quiet, I started banging my feet on the floor of the van. I was just hoping someone would hear me.”

  “That’s kind of what happened to me, too,” the young boy said, speaking up for the first time. He’d been quiet until then.

  “What’s your name?” Brigid asked as she turned her attention to him.

  “Henry,” he said softly. “I’m from Great Bend.” His lips were a thin line of worry beneath his sunken eyes. The dark hair on his head was matted and dirty, as though it had been a while since he’d had a shower.

  “How old are you Henry?” she asked.

  “I just turned twelve last month,” he said. “I was walking home from school when those guys grabbed me. I had my headphones in, so I never heard anything. I just felt someone grab me, and some kind of a cloth bag was slipped over my head.”

  “I told you to stay positive, didn’t I?” the older woman who was the third person who was held captive said.

  The boy nodded and gave her a watery smile. “I did my best,” he said softly.

  “And you did a great job, Henry. You were brave and strong. Don’t ever forget that,” she said with a nod.

  When Brigid looked at her, she smiled weakly. “I’m June. I also live in Great Bend. I was the first one locked in the storage container. I think I’ve been in there almost a week, but I’m not really sure. The days started to blur together,” she admitted.

  “Well, you’re safe now, June. Once Sheriff Davis gets a chance to speak with each of you and get your statements, we’ll contact your families. You’ll be home soon, and you can get some much-needed rest.” Brigid could only imagine what these peoples’ families must be thinking.