by Matthew Buza
She kicked Tyler as he pulled her back. She grabbed for the door, but it was just out of reach. A click sounded and Jennifer grabbed the lighter and rammed it into the Tyler's arm. He yelled in pain as she kicked again. She lunged and grabbed the door handle and pulled the latch. The driver side door swung open. She kicked again and connected on Tyler’s shoulder. She lunged for the door, her head staring out the open door to the trees in the distance. She began to crawl across the seats with her arms reaching out for holds. She looked up, only to see the face of Steven in the doorway. Their eyes met as Steven’s hand grabbed the door and slammed it shut. She turned back to see Tyler pulling on her leg. As she looked back Tyler smashed a rag into her face. She screamed and her breath gave out. She pulled another breath but her head fell limp. Tyler caught her and dragged her to the seat. He kneeled on the gravel and turned his head back to Kora. He took a deep breath, “Get me some rope. She is going in with the heads.”
“The heads? I don’t think she needs to go in there.” Steven replied.
“Get me the rope, now.”
They dragged her onto the grass and rolled her over onto her stomach. Her arms were pulled back and twine was wrapped around her wrists then slung together forming a bind. A piece of duct tape was pulled and placed across her mouth. Tyler reached into his pants and pulled out his knife flipping the blade. He brought it close to her face and cut a short slit in the tape. They tied twine around her ankles and then bound both wrists and feet with additional duct tape. Steven and Tyler lifted her up onto their shoulders and carried her across the yard following the path that passed by the open well. They walked up the steps to the second house as Kora slid by and opened the door. They entered the dark house. Kora quickly scanned the nearest bedroom pushing papers and boxes around to check for bodies.
“All clear,” She said.
They lowered her onto the old wooden floor as dust plumed up around her body. They slid her towards the open closet. From in the room you could hear the group leave the house, their muffled voices becoming more distant.
The room fell silent as Jennifer breathed quietly. The house creaked under the weight of slow moving ghostly bodies. The soft moans and fingers scratching along the walls could be heard from the living room. Bodies lined up along the wall and slowly trying to escape from their nightmares. The moans gave way to occasional shrieks as a body would leap into the air, its head bobbing under its weight. Its eyes rolled back, sores lining its arms and legs, as its mouth hung open, teeth long gone. Steps would give way to stumbling causing the room to groan under the disruption.
Jennifer’s body laid on floor in peace.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Antonia called out from the kitchen, “Would you like any coffee, I have a pot left over?”
Officer Conners looked up from the coffee table covered with tabloid magazines, “Yes ma’am, it's been a long day and I'd love a little.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Just cream thank you.” Antonia shakily reached up to her cabinet clinking the glasses. She pulled out the pot filling the cups carefully and adding cream to both. She walked around the corner and carefully set the cup onto the table brushing aside a magazine with her pinky finger.
“Sorry the table is a little messy.”
“That’s not a problem.” He smiled, took the cup, and sipped. It took all his effort not to show his displeasure. The coffee was old and burnt and no amount of cream could rescue it. He placed the cup down onto the table and pulled out his notebook and pen. “Thank you it’s very tasty.”
Antonia took a long drink from the cup and stared at the notebook, “She should be home by now. That voice on the phone. She sounded like she was in pain. It wasn’t my Jennifer.”
“I know. We’ll work with you to get as much information as we can and we’ll see where it takes us.”
“I just want her home.”
“The best thing to do is try and recreate where she might have gone.”
“When I first called her she was on her way home from the bar.”
“This is Jake’s in north Everett?”
“Yeah, she’s worked there for a while now, ever since she moved in with me. She'd just gotten out of a bad relationship. She left him and came up here to get away.”
“This man that she used to live with, does she still talk to him?”
She shook her head, “No she promised never to talk to him again. She relapsed in the past, but he got violent which pushed her to leave and come home. He lives down in Portland, just east of the city. I think Jennifer said he is working at the salvage yard. I don’t know if he’s still there.” The cup came her to mouth and she sipped again.
“Ok, so as far as you know this man hasn’t come up to the Seattle area?”
“I haven’t heard her talk about him in a long while so I would imagine he is still in the Portland area. His name is Ronald Trace. His friends call him RT for short. Sort of like the name Artie”
“Ok.” Conners took down the notes, “You wouldn’t happen to have a picture I could pass around?”
She walked to the end table and pulled out the drawer. She pushed aside papers and old photos, “I should really clean this place up.” She ran through a number of photos before stopping and picking up a small photo, “Here he is.”
She reached out and passed it to the officer, “Thank you, I assume that this is Jennifer in the image?” She nodded. ”May I take this with me? I will return it.”
“That’s not a problem. You can probably keep it, I figure she doesn’t care about images of him anymore. I’m actually surprised we still have one. He was a handsome man, but a real jerk. He never treated her right, in my opinion.”
The officer smiled and tucked the image into the notebook. He looked up, “Do you know if this man drove a Honda sedan of any sort?”
“RT? No, no, that man wouldn’t be caught dead with a car. He was a truck man, I remember that. He loved his trucks. Fords I think.”
Conners nodded. “So after she left work she was heading where?”
“She told me she needed to run to the bank and do a couple of errands.”
“Is it normal for her to do that after work?”
Antonia smiled and nodded, “She likes to put her tip money into the bank. She’s had money problems in the past and it was her goal to start saving. If she had it on her, oh my, she would just spend it. You know how that is sometimes. She’s been doing better about money now. She has been controlling her spending and I am real proud of her.”
“So this is her tip money. Is that typically a lot of money?”
“Normally she earns a hundred dollars or so every day between the coffee hut and the bar. Its real good money if you don’t have many bills or someone to take care of. She is staying here with me right now and I'm not charging her any rent.”
“I understand.” Conners wrote into his notebook.
“She had just saved up enough money to go on one of them Alaska cruises. You know the ones that take you out of Seattle and head up north?” Conners nodded, “She was going to go on one of them in a few months. She was so proud of herself for doing that.”
Conners nodded as he continued to write.
Antonia began to tear up, “She’s never been on that type of vacation before and she was so excited. At least once a week I would see her on the computer looking up pictures and seeing what was on the dinner menus.” Her hand came up to her eye as Conners looked down and wrote in his notebook. “I’m just so happy she was getting the time to do this. She really earned it.”
“Well, I hope she still gets to go on this trip,” Conners tried to reassure her. “Something that could help us is knowing which bank she uses.”
Antonia recovered from tearing up, “She uses a nice little credit union bank off the 9 here in Lake Stevens. I think it is called Northern Sound Credit Union. I think there is an ATM that is open all night that takes cash.”
“Ok, so this is where we think she was headin
g after the bar?” Antonia nodded again, “We’ll check with the bank to see if there might have been any activity during that time. There might even be some footage of her if she used the ATM. It will help us better pin-point the timeline. We won't be able to get any additional information until the morning when the branch opens.”
“Maybe there’s some type of camera or something?”
“Exactly. Now, can you tell me about the phone call?”
“She was late. Later than I would expect. I just waited on my porch, hoping she would come rolling up. I gave up waiting and finally called her. The phone rang and rang and she eventually picked it up and yelled,” Antonia’s voice cracked, “She yelled ‘Help’ real loud. It sounded as if she was away from the phone. Like she was on speaker phone or something. There was a lot of noise before it went silent.”
“Any idea what that noise might be?” Conners asked.
“It could have been road noise or wind noise. I think it did sound a lot like that, but a lot of wind. Maybe a window was rolled down in the car.” Conners furiously scrawled in his notebook.
Conners leaned over and reached into his back pocket pulling out his leather bound wallet. He opened the wallet and pulled out a thin white card. He turned the card over and wrote a series of numbers on the back and passed it forward. “On the back of the card is my cell phone number. If you hear anything from her please let me know.”
Antonia took the card and held it with both hands, “I will, thank you for your help.”
Conners stood up and began to put his jacket on, “There was one more thing, do you know or has Jennifer ever mentioned a man by the name of Steven Pfeffer?”
Antonia looked down and her lips pursed to the side, “I don’t think so, I haven’t heard that name before.”
“It would have been a white man, about five ten, and in his mid-twenties, very thin.”
“No that name’s not familiar. She doesn’t tell me if she has a date or boyfriend or anything. You would think she would want me knowing about that. I’m her grandmother and I’ve got a right to know.”
“Alright,” Conners smiled, “We are going to try and locate her phone since it’s still ringing. We will get back with you if we find anything.”
Antonia nodded and Officer Conners opened the door walking out past the porch to his unmarked car. He got into the car and gave a light wave to the woman standing on the porch. He turned the car on and drove down the street rounding the corner. He pulled up on the side of the road and dialed a number on his cell phone. It rang in his ear, “Hello Officer Conners, what can I do you for?”
“I just got done talking to an old woman whose granddaughter didn’t come home tonight. She thinks she heard her granddaughter scream for help on the phone.”
“A kidnapping case?”
Conners’ eyes drifted around the street, in the distance he could see a man walking slowly up the sidewalk, “Yes, and the woman who is missing happens to work at Jake’s. She was last heard on a cell phone call around the time our Honda was found.”
“Related?”
“Possibly, we’ll have to see, but according to her grandmother she’s never heard of Steven Pfeffer. The girl also has a recent nasty ex-boyfriend, but he is supposedly down in Portland.”
“Do you think Steven might have hitched a ride?”
The man continued to walk up the sidewalk, his head down and feet shuffling. A ski cap was pulled down across his forehead and his eyes were fixed on the headlights, “The grandmother talked to Jennifer on her way home and she didn’t sound stressed. Only the second call sounded worrisome.”
“Alright, we’re looking for possibly a man and a woman.”
“I’ll email in all of the notes and descriptions and we can push that out to the field.” The man now passed the side of the car and bent slightly revealing the whites of his eyes to Conners. They stared at each other for a brief moment as he passed the window. Conners’ hand moved to his waist and his fingers touched the butt of his gun. Conners followed the man in his rearview mirror as he continued on down the street.
“No problem, I’ll wait for your email.”
The phone call ended and Conners sat in his car. He closed his eyes. His mind drifted to Jake’s where he could see a lovely young woman walking out of the bar and down the street to her car. His eyes opened and he shifted into drive and pulled off down the street.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The papers piled next to the cardboard boxes and gently lifted as a draft moved through the room. Dust picked up into the air and swirled before crashing down to the floor again. Piles of trash, loose drywall, and insulation piled up in the center of the room. The clouds opened and the moonlight fell through the stained window onto the floor. The naked walls with exposed studs showed the home's age.
On the far side of the room, stretched out like a fallen dress, Jennifer's body slowly breathed. She laid quietly outside of the closet, her feet illuminated in the evening light. Her head rested on the floor as her arms were pulled back and bound at the wrists. Her legs were crossed with a foot dangling behind her calf. She was covered in a light dust as smoky plumes rose from her mouth on every breath.
Jennifer’ shoulders began to sway and her goose bumped arms folded and flexed under the binds. Her lip curled and cheeks raised as she slowly regained consciousness. Her eyelids danced and parted letting in the room. Her head shook brushing off the last of the chemicals as her eyes opened to the room tilted on its side. She slowly looked around as her memory warmed her to the situation. She lifted her head to hear and survey her surroundings. The bonds held strong fighting her weak attempts at freedom.
She rested a moment closing her eyes to the room and feeling across her body looking for any injuries. She squinted her eyes as her head rolled forward, the ground gently touching the welt on her forehead. Her body was sore but intact. She could feel the duct tape on her face as she tried to open her mouth, pushing forward with her tongue feeling the slit in the tape. She could taste glue mixed with blood from a wound. The knife had cut her upper lip and was draining across the tape. She pulled in a deep breath and let out a moan through the tape that drifted through the room.
Her head shifted as her eyes moved from the window to the door. She followed her body back and saw the open closet. Applying pressure from her legs she rolled her shoulders and began to squirm her way to the closet. She touched the wall with her hands and pulled her knees in. It took her two pulls of the shoulder to lift her body against the wood on the wall. Two more pushes and she was upright looking out into the room. Her hands searched behind her as she felt the dust and rough wood.
Her head rolled from side to side assessing the state of the studs. She shifted slightly, hands guiding her movement, as she pressed her binds against the wood. She leaned forward and began to rock against the exposed stud, pressing hard against the edge of her binds. She could feel the heat from the friction, but the bindings did not give way.
She broke and took in long pulls of air. It was hard work in the contorted position and she couldn't get strong leverage. She leaned back against the wall to rest, closing her eyes, allowing her mind to focus on the distant noises. She held her breath and could make out scratching sounds against the wall and faint moans. Her eyes shot open when a loud scream came from the other side of the house. It was a guttural cry and finished with the thud of a body against the floor. It woke the house, as murmurs lifted, creating an ambient rhythm. Jennifer looked to the door and back to the window. She pressed her hands against the wood and began to furiously grind the binds. From the open slit in the tape she muttered to herself, "Come on, come on."
She could feel the binding fray as pieces of material fell between her fingers. She wrenched forward pulling her shoulders apart and pushing out at the elbows. The bindings did not give way as her hands went white from the strain. Her wrist folded over the bindings as her forearms turned beet red from stopped blood flow. She leaned back and the emotions began to swell.
Tears slowly fell down her face and across the tape. Her chest popped lightly as she sobbed.
A scratch came from behind the door. Jennifer lifted her head to the noise. The door was silent, but a shadow could be seen shifting quietly. Jennifer's eyes opened wide as she realized she was not alone in the room. The shadow under the door shifted again and she could hear a faint panting. At the edge of the door Jennifer could make out wisps of hair moving in the breeze. She wondered how long this person had been there. Was she being watched?
The hair gave way to a head that was looking down to the floor. Two hands crawled out in front as if searching for an unseen object. The man was on all fours and entering the room. His eyes were wide and wild, but unfocused. His head was trembling as if cold, and spit flowed from his open mouth onto the ground. His hands inched forward as his body emerged from the door. Jennifer pushed herself up against the wall trying to distance herself from the ghastly figure.
The man moved into the center of the room. His body was exposed except for dirty white briefs. Along his back and legs were sores and rashes. His skin was white and covered in dirt and dust. Boney knees left small trails of blood from open wounds as his crooked hands continued to crawl and pull him into the room. His body was impossibly thin with ribs and vertebrae jetting out. His white skin was pulled over his body like a loose sheet.
Jennifer was horrified. She thought, could this man even be real? Was she imagining this? Her stomach wretched and she held back a heave knowing that the tape would cause her to choke. She looked over his body and saw that his briefs protruded at his midsection. Her fear compounded as she realized he was erect. She moved slightly and her binds caught on the flooring. She pulled in a panic and tore part of the wood base up releasing a cracking sound.