by William Mark
“Ah, poor thing,” Alexis offered.
Rachel ignored her uneasy feeling as she stood in Curt’s house. Images of their near indiscretion came to mind. It was obviously not meant to be, so she buried the emotion away and tried to pretend it had never happened.
Tracy soon returned from the store with Josh, and Curt made all the introductions. Rachel felt Tracy stare at her a little longer than the others but passed it off as her inherent paranoia. Louis engaged the boy, and his inner child came out in response to meeting the son of his idol. Josh seemed to respond to Louis who was still young at heart, and he seemed to brighten just a bit. After getting an invite to see his room, Louis stood up next to Curt who watched the boy head off to his room.
“Guess I can stop checking for you now, huh?” Curt smiled widely at the thought of his exhaustive search being over. He no longer had to dread the “dead kid report.”
“Yep, I guess so.”
Alexis came bearing gifts for Josh, and Tracy invited them all to sit outside on the back deck to enjoy the cool autumn morning. Rachel watched the boy closely and saw that he bore the mark of a damaged spirit. His eyes were still flat and devoid of the life any boy his age should have. Curt hung back in the living room, and Rachel walked up to him.
“Have you thought about therapy?”
“Yeah, I talked to some people over at DCF who I worked with in the past. They referred me to a couple of counselors.”
“Good…it’s a start.” She bowed her head for a moment. “You know he’ll never be the same, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Curt said sadly as he bowed his head too.
“I can talk to him, if you want. I mean…as you know, I may be able to relate, ya know?” Curt realized that Rachel and Josh shared a very unfortunate bond. Both were kidnapped at a young age, and although she was never sexually victimized, watching her sister subjected to the same horrors as Josh was just as painful.
Curt knew it was not easy for Rachel to offer such a thing because of how hard it was for her to deal with her own tragic past. He attributed her willingness to help to how close they had grown in the last few weeks. He smiled in acceptance.
“Thank you for that, and thank you for the help in Valdosta. That could’ve gone in a completely different way if you guys weren’t there.”
“Like I said in the text, you’re welcome!”
They shared another moment, staring in each other’s eyes, but the sound of footsteps on the laminate floors caused them to quickly pull away. Alexis asked to speak with Curt privately, and Rachel excused herself.
“What’s up?”
“I’m assuming that you are going to remain here with your family?”
“Yes. You knew that when I signed up. I know you probably figured I’d never find him, but yes, I’m staying. Rachel is ready. She has some more learning to do, but she is more than capable.”
“Well, she’s not you. But yes, I agree that she’s capable.” Alexis was holding back something else that she wanted to say, and Curt instantly picked up on it.
“Just come out with it.”
“Well, what happened in Colorado was unfortunate and honestly, it was just a matter of time before something like that happened. But what happened in Georgia, with the man in your….”
Curt wasn’t going to make excuses. He knew he crossed the line, but he willingly stepped over it to find Josh. He would make the same decision if faced with the scenario again. He was grateful for the help altering the story of what happened to Glenn Gregory. However, so long as Josh was safe and brought home, he would accept his fate, whatever it may be.
“Okay…what are you saying, Alexis?”
“I can’t have you return to the team. You have proven more than invaluable; don’t get me wrong, but this could have exposed us, completely.”
Curt recalled the visit from Tony Mason the day before and the fear he instilled because of his pursuit of his missing son. He didn’t have an answer for Alexis, but he wasn’t going to argue with her decision. It stung, but he was staying home regardless, now that Josh was back home.
“I understand,” Curt said solemnly. He hated ending on a bad note, but his role on the team was the result of the worst thing that had ever happened to him, and he was ready to be rid of it all and move on.
“I’m glad and sorry at the same time,” she added with a sweet genuineness, leaving the rest of the emotions unspoken.
The team continued to visit a little while longer. It was strange for them to see Curt in such a normal and domesticated mode, and it contrasted with what they’d known of him on the road. In times of crisis, many people adapt to what’s necessary and somehow find a way back after the crisis is over. Curt was evidence of that.
As the team left, Curt extended handshakes and hugs. This was goodbye. Even Beth Young put aside her differences and frustrations with Curt Walker and left him with a teary hug. Rachel kept her distance from Curt and offered a platonic handshake that felt more awkward than sincere. Curt watched with Tracy at his side while they loaded up into the Mercedes Sprinter and drove away.
“You didn’t tell me how pretty she was,” Tracy said with curiosity.
“Alexis? I thought you met her before…when she came three years ago?”
“I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about Rachel.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess she is.”
Chapter 36
He sprinted down the dark hallway with a sense of urgency and panic. Josh was calling out for him. Another nightmare had ripped him awake. Curt ran to his side taking him in his arms, rocking him back and forth, and stroking the back of his head, calming him as he did when he was a baby.
“Shhh, it’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here. It’s okay.”
Josh held tight to the neck of his father as if his life depended on it. He sobbed hysterically into his chest, frightened out of his mind. Tracy followed Curt to the bedroom and sat next to them on the bed, rubbing Josh’s back with tears in her eyes, feeling helpless. Although he was back, the trauma was far from over, and she loathed the men responsible.
Curt avoided talking about the deviant horrors that occurred between Josh and the men who took him. He did nothing wrong, and Curt hoped he would one day understand and accept that. But Rachel was right, he needed therapy. Curt believed he was young enough that the damage could be mitigated, and he could enjoy a normal life. As a cop, he knew the evidence in the case against Gregory and Helton was solid, but that didn’t excuse his son from spelling out what happened with enough detail to ensure a successful prosecution.
“Mommy and Daddy are here. You are safe.” Curt thought about how unfair it was, being so young and subjected to such cruel events in his life.
“Why did the man take me, Daddy? Why?” Josh cried.
“I don’t know son. I just don’t know,” Curt replied helplessly. He hated the men even more. He wished he had killed them slowly.
“Why did he take me to those men…who…did those things….”
“Who Josh? Who are you talking about?”
“Why Daddy? Why?” Josh’s sobs grew louder.
Curt pulled the boy away looking at him face to face, trying to read the meaning in his tear soaked eyes. Confused, he asked again, getting more and more impatient as Josh remained silent.
“What do you mean? Gregory and Helton didn’t take you? Did someone else take you? Who was it?”
Josh continued to cry and looked back at Curt blankly with no answers. Curt asked again with more frustration and anger added to his voice. Josh let out a loud sob and went limp in his arms.
“Curtis!” Tracy snapped with concern. “Stop! He’s terrified.”
He looked back at the boy. His face was full of uncontrollable fear. At the same time, he noticed a wet and warm sensation in his lap where Josh was sitting. He realized Josh had wet himself, and the urine had leaked through his pajamas and onto Curt. He stopped the questioning and handed him over to Tracy who got him cleaned up and eventua
lly put back into bed. Curt felt awful for snapping at his son, but the angry cop and father took over, and he forgot, temporarily, how fragile his son was.
Curt paced the living room unable to sleep. His mind raced after hearing Josh mention that someone else was involved in his abduction. Or, was this simply an aftershock? Was this a response to the traumatizing event from his damaged psyche with no validity? His thoughts swirled around in a maelstrom of information, trying to find the meaning behind Josh’s words. He played back the initial information from the investigation three years ago, which wasn’t much, and then fast forwarded over all the tips that turned out to be duds, up to the final one that was legit.
Then it dawned on him. It was what Gregory said to him when he first surprised him in his apartment. It had created such anger inside of him; he nearly forgot it was said. While Curt was standing over him he said, “You must be the cop.”
It wasn’t necessarily what he said that bothered Curt; it was how he said it. It was in that smug tone reserved for the guilty that echoed over and over in his mind. It was as if he was expecting him to show up. To immediately recognize him as “the cop” and not just the boy’s father made Curt think there must be a deeper meaning behind his words. At the time, he had been too focused on getting Josh away from those men and home safe to really think about it. He assumed that the man recognized Curt from the press coverage after Josh went missing. They had to know who he was because that would have made it easier to track him to the softball field and strike when they did. Curt recalled the look on Helton’s face at the Taco Bell. He instantly recognized him; it would make sense that they would be familiar with Curt so they knew whom to avoid.
Josh’s terror filled revelations, if credible, gave Curt a reason to doubt that he had found all of the answers behind his son’s abduction. That made Curt want to rethink everything he had learned about the men. If this was new information in any other investigation, Curt would want to go back and re-interview the witness. However, in this case, it was his young and fragile son who was the witness. Going back was not an option. On the other hand, neither was letting this go.
After settling Josh back into bed, Tracy walked out to the living room and found Curt still pacing around the room. He was deep in thought and nervously rubbing a small metal pendant around his neck. She’d never seen him wear the necklace before and figured it was something he picked up on the road.
“He’s asleep.”
Curt was so buried in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice that Tracy had come into the room and sat on the couch. “Huh?”
“Josh, he’s asleep,” she repeated. He nodded and dove back into his thoughts. “Where are you at right now?” She crossed her legs and folded her arms as she glared at Curt.
“A few things about this are bothering me. About what he said in there.”
She had seen this before. Curt had a tendency to dwell on difficult parts of an investigation to the point that sometimes the case consumed him. It was what made him better than other detectives, but it came at a high cost to his sanity and family life. For him, it was hard to compartmentalize the problems and tune them out. He felt compelled to find the answers. They seemed to beckon him, no matter the time.
“What about your son? Can we focus on him first?”
He sighed. She was right; his well-being was paramount at this moment. Anything short of that would have to wait.
“I’ve tried talking to him, but it’s like I don’t even know him anymore.” Curt sank down into the couch next to Tracy. “He’s not the same little boy I took to the softball field. He’s distant, like he is still back in Valdosta. I’ve tried every trick I can think of to get him to open up, but he shuts down every time.”
“He’s been through a lot. Probably more than we’re ever going to know. It’s going to take time, Curt.”
“That’s the thing. I’ve worked cases like these. I do know. I mean, I don’t know how it feels to be in his shoes, but I know what he’s gone through. I’ve seen it in other victims.”
Curt quietly cursed his job as a detective. The job came naturally and he was good at it, but what you see can’t be unseen. What you learn can’t be unlearned. It stays with you, no matter the distraction of booze, women, drugs, or adrenaline. The experiences, good and bad alike, make you a better cop, but they are also a burden you have to bear.
Tracy shook her head, at a loss for words. She put her arm around Curt’s shoulders.
He looked over and gave her a hopeful smile. “I’ll keep trying. I haven’t given up on him yet, no need to fold now, right?”
“Right,” she agreed and added her beautiful smile.
Chapter 37
The article was magnificent and, in his opinion, Pulitzer-worthy. Tony Mason made the final corrections and read it one final time. He spelled out the inner workings of the team who worked in secrecy and under the veil of anonymity to find missing children outside of traditional, legal means. He started out with what he knew about the Southern California boy who was saved from the cult but kept it in general terms with no names. He applauded the team for their efforts in the beginning of the article. He carefully chronicled the events surrounding the deadly shootout in Vail which left three men dead. He wrote about the five young women who were illegally smuggled into the country and forced into prostitution and then how they were rescued. Mason criticized the actions of the team as rash and even blood-thirsty, at points acting with no oversight or authority. He painted a picture of the team as paid mercenaries hired by the rich, philanthropist Alexis Vanderhill and her misguided mission to sainthood. He detailed her movements to coincide with these recoveries. She was never on the scene, so as not to get her hands dirty. That was reserved for Curtis Walker. He finalized the article with the motivation of Curtis Walker who was in a desperate search to find his son; he would be willing to kill anyone who got in his way, as he did in Vail. He also speculated that the crash in Valdosta was too convenient and smelled of a cover-up by the team in conjunction with the police.
Mason checked his watch, and it read 11:19 a.m. He was enjoying his stay at the DoubleTree Hotel in downtown Tallahassee, waiting around to see if anything else broke in the Josh Walker case. Everything was done electronically nowadays, and he expected the story to be uploaded to the paper’s website by five o’clock on the East Coast. He pictured his editing supervisor, a balding and overweight man, strolling into work on the West Coast with his daily coffee fix from Starbucks and checking all the submitted articles from the night before. Mason saved the article on his laptop and sent it via email, with the subject line reading: Pulitzer?
Tony smiled as he pictured the face of Alexis Vanderhill reading the article and detesting him for finally pushing the story through despite her efforts to kill it. There was nothing she could do about it now; he thought. It was her fault it had come to this adversarial bout of wills; he convinced himself. She was a reporter for Christ’s sake. She should completely understand where he was coming from. Hell, he would have co-authored the story with her, but for some reason, she chose to keep it a secret. He was not going to lose any sleep over this by any means.
Mason walked down to the lobby of the hotel and grabbed a local paper. It had full coverage on the Josh Walker case and a lot of follow up on the two men responsible for his abduction. There were some quotes from neighbors of the suspects in the article. “I had no idea. He was a quiet neighbor, never bothered nobody. I saw the boy with him a few times and would’ve never guessed the truth.”
Mason never stopped being amazed at the indifference of people, until it came to their opportunity to speak to the media. Then they sounded off like their opinion really mattered. It was hypocritical, but it made for good news when one of the herd spoke out.
He looked out of the large, sliding door entrance to the hotel. There was a covered drive-thru valet area, and he noticed it was a warm and clear mid-autumn day in Tallahassee. He figured his editor wouldn’t get back to him until he had
a chance to go over the story a few times and run it through the normal checks. That usually didn’t happen until after the second cup of coffee. He checked his watch again. His flight wasn’t until later that night, so he decided he would go for a walk.
Outside of the hotel was an elongated park that was bordered by a single-lane road on both sides, one going east, the other west. He noticed the park stretched for several blocks in both directions. It was adorned with paved walkways, cobblestoned in some stretches and bricked in others, with wooden benches along the way. Majestic oak trees were scattered up and down the Chain of Parks offering a canopy of shade for visitors and the casual strollers. Their massive outstretched arms were covered in cloaks of gray Spanish moss, giving them a sense of aged wisdom and distinction.
Mason crossed the street and walked along the path woven between the oak trees. He stopped and wondered about the trees and all that they’d seen and the secrets they kept. Being in a capital city of the Deep South, there was a rich history that included civil turmoil, devastation, adversity, and triumphs. The scars of the city were hidden in the quiet beauty of the giants that loomed downtown.
The California reporter continued walking around the area, taking in the interesting sights of downtown. It seemed extremely small compared to the colossal skyscrapers and the outstretched valleys of Los Angeles, but Mason liked what he saw. He loved LA, but Tallahassee seemed very charming. Maybe he felt that way because it was here where his story finally broke, but nonetheless, he liked the city.
As he walked along the main street that cut through downtown, a hole in the wall sandwich shop caught his eye. The Metro Deli was squeezed between county offices and a local law firm. There was a short awning that stretched over two small tables out front, giving it a big city feel with a bit of quaintness. He stepped in, catching the tail end of the lunch crowd. After studying the menu for a minute, he ordered the Tallahassee sub. What the hell, he thought. Essentially, it was a club sandwich with the addition of salami. When in Rome….