by Robin Mahle
Suddenly doubtful if she was alone, Katie surveyed the dimly lit room. Instinctively she twisted her body toward the front door, ensuring it had been relocked. Her index finger slid under the flap of the envelope, gently pulling it apart. No, this can’t be from him. It’s not possible. He doesn’t know where I live. She carefully removed the paper tucked inside, unfolding the top, then the bottom.
“Dear little Katie,
I wonder how much you remember of the wonderful time we spent together those many years ago. Do you recall how much fun we had; just you and me? I do. I remember your shiny dark hair, so long and soft, and your sweet, tender lips. I knew you were frightened, that’s why I tried to comfort you. It was a shame you left me, little Katie. I had such big plans for us.
Although I suppose now that you’re engaged, for which congratulations are in order, you’ve made plans of your own. Tell me, Katie, does he make you feel the way I did? You were so young and unspoiled. Does he know he wasn’t your first?”
She trembled as she read the words. Nothing her dreams had unearthed prepared her for the reality of his existence.
“Oh Katie, why did you start digging around the past? See, I knew that could be a problem down the road. Even when I read those articles saying you couldn’t remember what happened, I always wondered if it’d ever come back to you, all those wonderful things we did together. I must admit though, I was a little surprised when I read that you met with Chief Wilson. He was only a detective then, but incompetent just the same. Of course, the press didn’t name you, just calling you a ‘victim,’ but you and I both know you were the only one who got away.
I was angry at first, but then I found another to take your place, and then another. But, I digress. Let me just say this, you should have left the past alone, little Katie Reid.”
The letter slipped from her hands and glided to the floor. She stood immobilized, frozen by the echo of his words swirling around her head. Once again, he had control over her, but she would not give in.
Katie snatched her cell phone from the dining table. “Marshall? Marshall, he sent me a letter.”
“What? Who?”
She waited a moment for him to comprehend what she was saying.
“Oh my God, are you sure, Kate?”
“Yes.” She was the calm one this time.
“How did he find you? I don’t understand.”
“My engagement announcement; he must have seen it. If he found the article in the San Diego U-T, it couldn’t have been that hard to find me.”
“I’m coming over right now.”
Before she could respond, he hung up. It didn’t matter; the important thing was that he was coming. She was angry, frightened, and about a million other emotions that coursed through her body.
It took nearly thirty minutes before Marshall arrived. Katie was still sitting in the dining room chair, staring at the letter.
He pounded on the door. “Kate? It’s Marshall. Open the door.”
She slowly rose from the chair and walked toward the door, calmly and quietly. Katie turned the handle and opened it.
He rushed in and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She only nodded.
Marshall saw the letter on the table. “I wonder if we can get prints. What did you do with the envelope, Kate?”
She pointed to the floor.
“Come here and sit down,” he said. “This was mailed yesterday according to the postmark. It had to have come from here in California to arrive so quickly. How could he know where you live?”
“He found my engagement announcement and figured I must live in San Diego. How hard can it be to find someone’s address? You can find just about anything on the Internet. He only had to search my name. Damn it, I had completely forgotten about it.”
“You’re right. Jesus, I wish you’d told me about the announcement.”
“I’m sorry, Marshall. It slipped my mind. Do you think I wanted him to find me?”
“No, of course not. It’s okay, Kate. You’ll be safe, I’ll make sure of that. I think we need to call Chief Wilson.” Marshall glanced at his watch. “He’s probably gone for the day, but I’m sure the station will patch me through to his cell.”
Within moments, the line answered. “Chief, this is Detective Avery in San Diego. Fine sir, thank you. Chief, I’m here at the home of Kate Reid; she has just received a letter from her abductor. It seems as though he was able to find her location as a result of an engagement announcement that was published back in April of this year.
“Yes, sir. He made reference to the previous letter sent to your station. It is the same guy…. She’s all right. I’m going to stay with her for now, but I think it’s imperative we take a serious look at reopening the investigation. Although no direct threat was made, a vague warning was mentioned. I think he plans on contacting her again….
“Thank you, sir. We will e-mail the letter to you now. Please let me know how you intend to proceed as soon as possible and we can coordinate with SDPD. He just crossed over into my jurisdiction now. …. Of course. I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Good night, Chief.” He turned to Katie. “He wants to show the letter to the DA. We still won’t have much evidence, but we have enough to reopen your file, he believes. Any threat of harm to another individual, whether known or unknown to the victim, is enough to warrant an investigation. You may get what you want after all, Kate.”
“Did you read what he said about replacing me? There have been others, Marshall; we know that for a fact now. He’s hurt others the way he hurt me, only they didn’t escape.”
“Yes, we can only hope he screwed up somewhere along the way and left an opening for us. I’m not entirely sure where we go from here, but we’ll know more after we hear back from the chief. I’d like to stay here with you tonight, Kate; I can sleep on the couch. I don’t feel right leaving you alone.”
“Okay. I would appreciate it very much if you stayed here, thank you. Are you hungry? I can call for some pizza.”
The perplexed look on his face seemed to require that she explain her need for food at such a time. “I’ve got to have some sort of distraction right now and food seems like a good idea.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“You still have to eat.”
“Okay, okay. Get some pizza.”
Katie ordered the food and they settled in for a long night of mindless television, though neither of them could think of much else except for what was to come.
The silence that followed as they stared at the TV wasn’t awkward, but was comforting because Katie knew she didn’t have to say anything. Marshall had an understanding of her that very few had.
The quiet hours lingered on until she drifted off to sleep, curled up on the end of the couch. She roused only slightly when a blanket was placed over her.
“There’s my little Katie.” The voice traveled to her ears, but she could not see from whose mouth it came. The tightly bound scarf around her eyes made sure of that. “You know, a lot of people are looking for you,” the voice continued.
She screamed as loud as she could, but he only laughed. “Oh, Katie, you don’t think anyone can hear you, do you? You’re far away from everyone.”
“I want to go home, please. I want my mommy.” She felt a large hand brush the hair from her forehead.
“I know, honey, soon. You’ll see your mommy soon. But first, I have lots of fun things planned for us. Do you like games, Katie?”
She nodded.
“Good. I have lots of games we can play together.”
His weight lifted from the cot and she listened as his footsteps faded away. He was gone, for now. She pried the scarf down enough to catch a glimpse of her surroundings. The only thought she had was how upset her mother would be because she talked to the stranger. How many times did she tell her not to talk to strangers?
Katie was hungry and thirsty. She saw a cup of water on the small table next to the bed. There wasn’t
much in it, but it was enough for now.
The footsteps were back and she quickly pulled the scarf back over her eyes.
“You must be getting very hungry. You haven’t eaten in nearly two days, little Katie. Remember what I told you? You do something for me and I’ll give you some food. That’s how our little game works. I don’t want you struggling with me again, like yesterday.”
“But you were hurting me,” she whispered.
“Mmmm, don’t these pancakes smell good? I’ve got a big glass of milk for you too.”
The pain in her stomach worsened with the scent of the food, so this time, when he placed his hand on her thigh, she didn’t fight him.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she cried.
He slid her pants down around her ankles, then slowly felt his way up her thighs. Katie shook with fear as she squeezed her eyes shut behind the scarf. Terror ripped through her until she no longer had any control over her own body.
“You stupid little bitch!” he yelled and jumped off the cot.
That’s when she felt it. She had soiled herself. Katie pulled down the scarf to see him hunched over in disgust, wiping his pants.
“Grab the lamp, Katie,” a voice whispered as if coming from inside her head. She knew what to do as her body filled with strength far beyond that of a six-year-old. He rose just in time to see her swing the lamp. It struck him squarely on the side of his head. Blood poured from his temple as he stumbled back in pain.
Katie reeled from the blow, almost falling back onto the cot, her tiny body thrown off balance. He stumbled and now was her only chance. She could make it to the stairs before he regained his footing. She reached the bottom step and heard him lurching toward her. “Run,” the voice in her head whispered again.
The door at the top of the stairs was stuck. He was only a few steps behind. She finally pulled it open with all the might she could muster.
“You think you can get away from me?” he bellowed, laboring toward the final step. “I’ll find you, Katie. There’s no place for you to go. There’s no one around for miles.”
It was so bright in the house; it must have been the morning sun. Katie looked left, then right, and spotted the front door. She had no shoes and no pants, but she ran as fast as she could.
He was almost on top of her now, barely making it out the door ahead of him. Ahead of her were the woods. Looking behind her one last time, there he was. His bloodied face stared directly at her and he smiled. “I’ll catch you, Katie. You can’t get away from me.”
Katie sat, bolt-up on the couch. She was out of breath and sweat poured from her brow.
Marshall lurched toward her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Did you have another nightmare?”
Katie looked at him with renewed vitality, grasping what had just happened.
“Come on, Kate, talk to me. Are you okay?” he asked again.
“I saw his face.”
Marshall’s expression hardened instantly at her words. It occurred to both of them exactly what this meant.
Katie rose from the couch and stood in front of him, breathing heavily, not just from the adrenaline the nightmare forced her body to pump, but because of the certainty that nightmare had just laid at their feet. The emerging idea brought a fleeting hint of a smile to her face. There was no mistaking it this time; there would be no more dead ends.
“Marshall, we are going to find him.”
14
The Girl Who Escaped
This was the part that she dreaded the most: opening her apartment door first thing in the morning to get the paper. Would they be there again today; the three or four reporters who lingered outside her quiet building in hopes of getting a statement from the girl who escaped? Their appearance had almost become part of her daily routine. So much had happened since she came forward. Was it still September? Katie had to look at the front page just to be sure.
An unusual morning for this time of year; bright blue sky and air so still that as she looked out among the palm trees lining the street, not a single frond moved. A nice breeze could generally be counted on to drift in through the open windows of her apartment; the air having been cooled by the ocean only blocks away.
But in the past few weeks, Katie’s life had been dramatically altered, leading her down a path she still feared, and so “unusual” had become the norm. No sign of the reporters yet, but it was still early. She stepped back inside and closed the door. The latch clicked and she cringed, wondering if it would stir Marshall. He was still asleep on the couch. He hadn’t left her side since the sketch of her abductor went public.
After the night of the last dream, the one that changed everything, Marshall had accompanied Katie to the police station, where the composite artist had sketched out the face. She brought to life her worst nightmare and it was the first time others would see the monster who had been haunting her dreams for the better part of a year. His long, thin face, round eyes, and high forehead offered a good starting point, but the version she had in her mind was more than twenty years old. It was a distorted, scowling image of a man, angry that he had been bested by a child. But what about now as his youth had given way to middle age? Receding hair, skin leathered with age, waist expanded from years of excess. These were all things that needed to be considered. One thing was certain; she would recognize that scathing stare and twisted mouth if she got the chance to see him again.
Katie remembered everything now: the smell of smoke that lingered on his clothing, the taste of ashes on his mouth as he forced his lips onto hers. Her ability to recognize such things when she was a child hadn’t existed and it was only now, as an adult, that she could put a name to those unmistakably pungent odors. Even the origin of the scar on the back of her calf had come back with a fierce, vivid recollection. The lit cigarette he pressed against her delicate skin, twisting and turning it until the flesh burned off because she dared struggle against him.
When the sketch artist finished his work, the drawing was scanned in and “aged” to reflect more accurately what he might look like now. Soon after, it was released to the media and he was everywhere. Her nightmare had become inescapable. Katie was overwhelmed by the attention. Everyone was fascinated by the girl who had no memory of her daring escape until now—especially Marc Aguilar. A reporter from Channel 9 News, he had been ever present since the story broke.
Today would prove to be no different. By the time Marshall and Katie left her apartment, they were prepared for another day of a game of survival against the media and a search that had been fettered by anonymous tips flooding the station. Each one took valuable man-hours to vet, but it had to be done.
As the two made their way into the police station, where Katie still had a job working evidence, Aguilar made his way to the front of the usual crowd of reporters until he was less than 50 feet from Katie.
“Ms. Reid! Ms. Reid!”
Marshall instinctively stretched his arm out across her mid-section as if he would, at any moment, knock her down to protect her.
“Ms. Reid, Marc Aguilar, 9 Action News.”
She knew exactly who he was and tried hard not to roll her eyes in front of the cameras, an action that, if spotted, might turn an influential audience against her. He’d been showing up at the station almost daily since the sketch went out.
“How can you be sure your memory is reliable?” Aguilar continued. “Isn’t it possible that the rendering of the man who allegedly took you could resemble someone else; someone innocent of the abduction charges? Our minds do play tricks on us, Ms. Reid, don’t they? This did happen more than twenty years ago.”
Katie felt Marshall gently nudging her. It was his way of telling her not to fall into this guy’s trap.
“Mr. Aguilar,” she began. “I appreciate your concern, but I can only rely on the memories that have come back to me and this is the man that I saw, at least, how he might look today. This is the man who kept me locked away for days. The man who tied me up, b
eat me, and then raped me. A man who is still on the loose.” A vision of the monster’s bloodied face forced its way to the forefront of her mind; it was the final impression she had of him. “My memory hasn’t yet betrayed me, Mr. Aguilar, since I have been able to recall certain details of my case that only law enforcement were made aware of at the time. I’m sorry if it’s not enough for you, sir, but I don’t believe you have any indication that this sketch is of an innocent man.”
“My point exactly, Ms. Reid.”
But before he could continue, the police captain appeared, launching himself in front of Katie. “I think that’s enough for now, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll issue further announcements as the case develops. Thank you.”
Captain Ronald Hearn, the man in charge, ushered Katie through the large sliding glass doors and into the lobby of the station. Marshall wasn’t far behind and could be heard mumbling obscenities under his breath.
“It’s okay, Marshall, really,” Katie said. “The guy’s an ass. Every time I see his spray-tanned face and over-gelled hair, I change the channel. He’s just trying to get me to slip up, I guess. Like he somehow thinks I made all this up, you know? Anyway, he’s harmless; you know that.”
“You’re right.” The heat that had risen beneath the collar of his polo shirt evaporated, returning his face to its normal shade. The air had become downright thick in the center of town, not at all helping an already tense situation.
One of the warmest months on record in San Diego, this was just another in the string of unusual events Katie had endured over these past weeks. Since going public, nothing had been as she had expected. Spencer had not made an appearance; something that surprised her, to a degree. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since their last meeting when he came back to the apartment to get the rest of his things.
According to one of the few of their friends who had chosen her side, he was quickly becoming a rising star at the law firm and had been seen casually dating a few different women. The friend insisted it was nothing serious; not that Katie inquired as much. That chapter in her life was over and she was sure of it now that he hadn’t so much as sent her an email asking how she was holding up. You can’t have it both ways, Katie.