The proprietress was standing on the porch, watching him. When he started trudging to the side of the house she darted inside.
Screw her, he thought as he made his way around the side of the house to the rear, where their room overlooked. Let her call the cops.
He reached the rear of the house and looked up at their window and stood there, his mouth agape in shock and horror. He stood there for a full minute, not even hearing the proprietress call out in her shrill voice “I’ve called the police! They’ll be here any minute!” He simply stood there and looked up at the window, then looked at the wall of the home and the ground, letting his gaze trail down the rear of the property, then back up the wall of the house again.
There was a path from the woods that traveled all the way up the wall of the house to their second floor window, and it was coated with a grayish-green slime.
Just then the sky suddenly turned dark, and the sound of a great wind rose. And as Jack turned to look up at the sky for the source of the storm, he realized that the wind wasn’t blowing, and the dark shape wasn’t a cloud—
The Lingering Scent of Brimstone
THE FIRST THING Emily Doyle thought when she took the phone call from her mother shortly before 4:45 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, July 6, 2004 was Oh my God, no!
“I’ve already called the police,” her mother said, her voice strangely calm despite the severity of the situation. “I’ve sent the Baker boys out on their bikes in the hope they see where he went, but—”
“I’ll be right there, I’m leaving now!” Emily blurted, fighting back tears as she slammed the phone down and grabbed her purse.
Her co-worker and cubical neighbor, Lisa Wheatland, looked up, her pretty features concerned. “Everything okay?”
“I’ve got to go, somebody just took Amy.” Emily could barely speak; already she could feel the fear and the shock hit her, freezing her up.
“What?”
Emily headed out of her cubical and made a beeline out of the office, ignoring Lisa’s questions of concern, only one thing on her mind.
Oh my God I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t believe this is happening, please let it be a mistake—
Somehow she made it out of the building and into her car, where she threw her purse on the passenger side bucket seat. She slammed the door and started the engine, peeling out of the parking space and heading out to Route 372.
She had to force herself to be calm as she drove home, her heart racing. Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind as she made the normally twenty-five minute drive home in ten minutes.
Emily, it’s mom. You have to come home right away. Somebody snatched Amy while she was playing outside with the Baker kids.
What?
I called the police. I saw it happen and I tried to stop it but he was too fast. He just grabbed her and threw her in the car. It happened so fast—
What are you telling me, mom, are you trying to tell me somebody kidnapped Amy?
Yes! Somebody grabbed her while I was sitting on the front porch watching her! Now please come home! I’ve already called the police, they’re on their way over and—
The conversation replayed in her mind as she raced home.
By the time she pulled into her neighborhood her nerves were shattered.
The first thing she saw were half a dozen police cars parked in front of the house, lights flashing.
She pulled into the driveway and was out of the car, stumbling in her haste to reach the house. She was barely aware of the humidity, fragrant with the scent of newly mown grass. She was barely aware of the policemen gathered around the front porch as she headed straight to the front door into her mother’s arms.
“Where is she?” she babbled, unable to control the shakiness of her voice. “Have they found her yet? Have they—”
“Calm down,” Mom said, taking her by the shoulders and trying to get her to sit down on the sofa. “They’re out looking for her.”
The living room spun before her as a uniformed officer sat down beside her and gently assured her he had the entire Lititz Police Department on the case. The state’s Amber Alert was in affect with a description of the kidnapper’s vehicle—a beige Cadillac, late seventies model—and a physical description of the kidnapper (white male in his late thirties, wearing tan Dockers and a white sport shirt). Emily felt her world collapse as her eyes focused on a stuffed animal on the sofa—Amy’s favorite, a green teddy bear with dark eyes. I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe—
“We’re going to find her,” the uniformed officer told her. He was in his late forties, balding, watery blue eyes set in a hound dog face. “The kids got a good description and your mom got a partial on the plate and we got the State Police on it. Every cop has this guy’s description. We’ll get him.”
Emily wasn’t paying attention. All she could think about was Amy, wondering what was happening to her.
At some point she lost her composure and broke down.
The next thing she was aware of was her husband Jeff, holding her. She blinked, becoming aware of his presence as the sound of his voice came through. “...I appreciate everything. I know we’re going to find her. Amy’s a tough little girl and we’ve gone through all the safety precautions about what to do if a stranger were to lure her into his car. We’re going to find her.”
Emily took a deep breath, her mind focused on what Jeff just said. We’ve gone through all the safety precautions about what to do if a stranger were to lure her into his car.
We’ve gone through all the safety precautions—
—all the safety precautions—
Dear God...
Jeff led Emily away from the throng of police officers that had gathered in the living room. She had no idea when he’d arrived home, but it must have been a few minutes ago. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking shocked. A detective dressed in black slacks, a white shirt and black tie was sitting at the table with her, jotting something down in a notebook. “I’m going to get Emily something to calm her nerves and get her to lie down, okay?” Jeff said to the detective.
The detective looked up and nodded. Emily tried to make eye contact with her mother, who looked down at the table. She noticed the time—six thirty p.m.
How long have I been out of it? Oh my God!
The cop with the hound dog face approached them. “Mrs. Doyle...Mr. Doyle...”
“Did you find her?” The words flew out of Emily’s mouth before she could stop them.
Hound Dog face shook his head. “Not yet, ma’am. We’re chasing down several leads and the local news is on the case. Thought you might want to know.” He gestured outside. “There’s a couple reporters and a news van outside. We can keep them at bay if you want.”
“Yes, officer, please,” Jeff said. His grip on her shoulders was comforting, familiar. For the first time in years she noticed how different his grip felt with his missing left pinkie finger; gone now almost as long as Amy had been alive. It had been so long since he’d lost it that its loss seemed normal now. He squeezed her shoulders gently. “Thank you for everything.”
Hound Dog face tried to look encouraging, but Emily knew he was troubled. She knew the statistics of stranger abductions; she knew that despite their rare occurrence it still happened. They’d never been worried about anything like that happening, but they’d still done what every conscientious parent would do and enrolled her in self-awareness and self-defense classes. They’d done everything they could to protect Amy—they’d moved from the mean streets of Los Angeles to this little town in rural Pennsylvania to be closer to Emily’s mother, hoping to provide a safe haven for Amy to grow up in, away from the dangers of the big city. They’d taught Amy all the necessary drills—don’t get in a car with a stranger; if a stranger asks you to help him look for a lost pet, tell him no and run away; if a stranger grabs you, rotate your arms and legs like a windmill and scream; fight and yell, kick and scratch, aim for the eyes and the crotch. They’d
taught her other things, too: don’t take unnecessary risks; listen to your instinct; if you believe something is dangerous, avoid it. They’d taught her all this and somehow they knew that it might not be enough, so they’d taken extra precautions, somehow believing nothing would never happen, especially this.
But it had.
The beginning of a nightmare.
EMILY DOYLE DIDN'T know how she got through the night, but somehow she did. With her mother and Jeff beside her, she was able to maintain some vigilance of strength. They would find her daughter. She was alive. She had to be.
A squad car sat outside the house at sentry duty for the remainder of the night while the Lititz Police department joined forces with the Pennsylvania State Police and conducted a search. A description of the vehicle and the perpetrator went out over the wire and the latest updates were relayed to Hound Dog face, who’d been assigned to stay with the Doyle family until the nightmare was over.
Emily didn’t sleep.
She couldn’t. Not with her nerves wired with worry, not with her mind constantly wondering if everything was going to turn out okay. She traded silent glances with Jeff and knew he was worrying about the same things, but they remained quiet. Emily’s mother went through bouts of crying, chastising herself for not doing enough to protect Amy, and Jeff finally convinced her that she’d done all she could. She’d done everything right. Finally Laura fell into a light sleep on the sofa, occasionally twitching in her sleep as the visions of what happened tormented her dreams.
At seven a.m. Hound Dog Face’s cell phone rang.
He answered it, his eyes bloodshot, his jowls slacker now with lack of sleep. “Yeah?” He listened for a moment and Emily noted the sudden change in his features from fatigue to a slow warming of hope. “Are you serious? Oh that is good news! I...yes, let me tell them. They’re right here—”
Jeff and Emily were up in a flash. “They found her!” Emily gasped.
Hound Dog Face held up his hand and nodded, still listening. He looked hopeful and serious as whoever was on the other end filled him in. Emily was frantic with hope and a new found joy. They found her!
“Okay...yes, I’ll tell them. Yes, I’ll bring them over.” Hound Dog hung up the phone.
Emily couldn’t stop the tears. “Is she okay? Where is she? Can we see her? What—”
Hound Dog Face took her hands and addressed both of them, his features still bearing the good news but Emily detected an undercurrent of something that troubled him. “We found her. She’s okay, she’s alive.”
Emily felt her knees threaten to buckle. She fought to remain standing and she could feel that Jeff had similarly been overtaken by this sudden emotion of good news. She heard him draw in a breath, sniffling back tears of joy. “Where is she?”
“They’re taking her to Ephrata Community Hospital to look her over,” Hound Dog Face said, still looking shell-shocked at this news himself. “She’s...the officer I talked to examined her personally and...he said she didn’t appear to be hurt but...” He licked his lips nervously. “She was covered in blood.”
Emily gasped. Oh God!
Jeff stiffened beside her, reacting to this news.
Hound Dog continued. “She was found in north Lancaster County wandering along 272 about six-thirty this morning. A trucker spotted her and called the police. When the officers arrived they identified her and...questioned her.” Hound Dog swallowed and Emily could tell he was nervous. “She seemed to be fine, but in light shock and she was able to tell the officers where...where she was taken. She described a motel, and a squad car was dispatched there and found the vehicle, parked in front of a room at the end of the building.” Hound Dog’s face looked hesitant, as if he didn’t know how to finish the story. “The perpetrator...what was left of him...was...well...he was pretty badly mangled, let me put it that way. Cliff, the guy who called, basically described the room as resembling an abattoir.”
Emily was horrified. She could tell Jeff was having the same reactions, but she tried to calm her sense of shock and horror in favor of letting her gratitude and joy that her daughter was alive and safe show through. The tears that were streaming down became a flood as she melted into Jeff’s embrace. “I want to see her! I want to see my baby!”
Jeff held her, trying to be strong for her, and Hound Dog face nodded and told them he was going to drive them to Ephrata Hospital to see their daughter.
LAURA RODE WITH them to Ephrata Community Hospital. Emily could barely contain her emotions. She wavered between crying and trading worried glances with Jeff, who sat on the driver’s side in the back seat looking out the window, his features silent and stony during the fifteen-minute drive.
When they reached the hospital Emily had to resist the urge to run inside and demand to see her daughter. She let herself be led down the hallway and up an elevator. Another uniformed officer met them and led them to a room in the pediatric wing where Amy was seated on a paper-covered hospital bed dressed in a white hospital issued gown.
“Mommy!” Amy’s face brightened instantly at the sight of her parents.
“Amy!” Emily and Jeff rushed to their daughter and Emily felt a sudden sense of elation as she swept the little girl into her arms. Amy began to cry, her small shoulders quivering with sobs. “It’s okay, honey, it’s okay” Emily cooed, holding her daughter, stroking her hair. “It’s all over now, you’re safe, mommy and daddy are here.”
Jeff was holding both of them and she felt Amy shift in an attempt to include her father in her embrace. Behind them, Hound Dog face and the other uniformed cop stood by the door uncomfortably. “We’ll leave you alone for a minute,” Hound Dog face said. He exited the room with his partner, leaving the Doyle family alone.
The family continued to huddle close together, whispering to their daughter in soothing tones. Eventually Amy’s cries trickled down. Emily held on to her, eyes closed, thankful that her daughter was alive and safe.
Jeff stepped back, running his hands over Amy’s head and face. Emily stepped back as well, performing a visual inspection of her daughter. Her hair was damp, as if she’d just had it washed. “Are you okay honey? Are you hurt anywhere or cut or—”
Amy shook her head, her eyes wide, still red from crying.
“You weren’t hurt anywhere?”
Amy shook her head again. “No. I’m...I’m okay.”
Emily and Jeff traded a glance and Emily knew from looking at her husband that he was thinking the same thing. They said she was covered in blood and that the room her abductor checked into was spattered with it...that there wasn’t much left of him. That must mean—
“You weren’t cut anywhere at all honey?” Jeff asked Amy.
Amy shook her head and began to cry again. “What happened to me? I don’t remember what happened!”
“It’s okay, honey,” Emily said, pulling her daughter close to her. “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’re safe and you’re fine and that’s all that matters.”
“I don’t remember anything,” Amy said, her voice sniffling. “I...I tried to fight him off but he handcuffed me in the car and then...we got to that...that hotel and he got me into that room and then...I don’t remember what happened after that! The next thing I remember I...I was walking outside, wandering around and...I was...covered in blood!” She broke down, sobbing quietly.
Emily and Jeff traded another glance and Emily felt a heaviness settle in her chest. Was what happened that horrible that she’d blocked it out?
Jeff was holding his daughter. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy and daddy are going to take care of everything. Don’t worry...everything will be fine. The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”
Emily joined him in trying to calm Amy down and after a few minutes their daughter’s sobs trickled down. Amy sat morosely on the bed, her gaze far away and dazed. She was going to need help at some point. The most immediate concern now was getting her out of the hospital and getting her home; the next was trying to keep the police
from questioning her further. They would want to, Emily was sure of it, but she didn’t want the questioning to damage Amy. She traded a glance with Jeff, who nodded at her. It was like they were telepathically connected at this moment, reading each others thoughts, making silent plans to resume their lives in peace and quiet the way things had been before somebody had tried to shatter it.
There was a soft knock on the door and then a doctor wearing a white lab coat poked his head in. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and wore glasses on a round face. “How’s our patient?” he asked.
“Fine,” Emily said, standing up, feeling a hundred percent better now that she’d seen and touched Amy, confirming she was alive. “She’s a little fighter.”
“She is,” the doctor said, smiling. He introduced himself as Dr. Knoll and flipped to Amy’s medical chart. “Physically, Amy’s fine. Emotionally she’s been through a shock. I’d like to prescribe a sedative to help calm her nerves for the next several weeks, and then I’d like her to follow up with Dr. Jascowski, a child psychiatrist in the Denver area. She’s going to need some help coping with what she’s been through.”
“Will the police want to talk to her?” Emily asked.
“They tried but they couldn’t get anything out of her,” Dr. Knoll said. “They’ll probably want to try again once she’s entered therapy. In the meantime, I’m sure they’ll have plenty of other potential witnesses they could question to help explain what happened.”
The rest of that morning was a blur; leaving Amy for a few more hours of observation in the hospital while Emily and Jeff went to the Ephrata Police Station to answer questions. As the morning unfolded they learned the identity of the man who’d abducted their daughter—thirty-year-old Ken Banning, a computer programmer with no prior criminal record. As the pieces were put together, a very sketchy chain of events was put into place with several large holes threatening to make the entire theory collapse were it not for the actual physical evidence—a very alive but shaken eight-year-old girl, and the scant remains of Banning.
When the Darkness Falls Page 24