Those Girls

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Those Girls Page 25

by Chevy Stevens


  The sergeant sat up straight in his chair, his eyes watching us intently.

  “Did you report it?” he said.

  “We were too scared,” I said. “We just wanted to get away from this place. What the men did to us—” I broke off, caught my breath. “It’s still very hard for us to talk about.”

  “We don’t want to press charges,” Dallas said. “We just want you to know that they’re dangerous. We believe Crystal came here to confront them, and Skylar followed. We think Brian and Gavin have done something to them.”

  “We know Crystal was at the bar at the same time as Gavin Luxton, and we know Skylar was working at the ranch but she didn’t show up this morning,” I said. I told him everything we’d learned from Owen and Riley.

  “You need to search their properties,” Dallas said.

  “Before we can do anything, I need some more information from you,” the sergeant said. “What were the girls driving?”

  “Skylar has a red Honda Civic, and Crystal drives a black Acura.”

  “Do you know what they were last wearing?”

  I shook my head. “No. But Skylar was probably wearing shorts and flip-flops. She has a leather pair with a daisy on them, between the toes.” I swallowed hard against the tears building in my throat. “She wears them all the time. Crystal often wears yoga shorts and tank tops.”

  “We’ll find out if the motel has a surveillance camera. We’ll also ask local businesses in the area. I’ll need a recent photo and the girls’ descriptions, names of their friends, any associates or employers.”

  I gave him Crystal and Skylar’s details, their dates of birth, names of their friends. “I have some photos on my phone,” I said.

  “Can you e-mail me?” He gave me his address and I sent him the photos.

  “Crystal’s hair is dyed brown now,” I said.

  “Where’s Skylar’s father?”

  “He’s not in her life.”

  He looked up, met my eyes briefly. I wondered if he was going to ask for her father’s name or contact information, but he just made a note.

  “How did Skylar seem the last time you spoke to her?”

  “She was upset and worried about her aunt, but she told me she was going to stay with a friend at her lake cabin. She lied to me.”

  “Has she run away before?” he said.

  “Skylar’s never done anything like this,” I said.

  “What about their lifestyle? Any medical conditions? Drug use?”

  I thought about what to say. “Skylar’s a good kid. Crystal’s had a few problems, but she wouldn’t just disappear on us.”

  “You said Skylar was worried about her?”

  If I told him the truth, would he not take things as seriously? Would he just think Crystal was a flake or a screwup? I had to say something.

  “Crystal had something upsetting happen to her that weekend, a fight with a guy she was dating. We think that opened up some of her feelings about what happened to us when we were teenagers, and that’s why she came back here.”

  “Any indication she may be suicidal?”

  I thought about Crystal locked in the bathroom, a gun in her hand.

  “No.”

  He made another note. “You said you went into her motel room. Did you see any signs of a struggle?”

  “No, but it was messy,” I said.

  “We’ll check it out—don’t enter the room again.”

  “We’ll get another room at the motel.”

  “I’m going to need their cell numbers—we’ll ping their phones.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If they don’t have GPS, we can see where their phone last bounced off a cell tower and triangulate the signals. It will give us an indication of where they might be located, but if there isn’t any cell coverage or their batteries are dead, it won’t help us. We’ll still get an idea of where they might’ve been recently.”

  “That’s good,” I said, starting to feel hopeful they’d find them soon. I glanced over at Dallas. She gave me a small smile.

  “We’ll pull their text messages, but that might take a couple of days to get from the phone company. Their description and vehicle will be entered on CPIC, the Canadian Police Information Centre. We’ll also notify other detachments.”

  “When will you talk to Brian and Gavin?” I said.

  “As soon as possible. We still need to go through the process. I understand your concern about the men, but we can’t pigeonhole our investigation because of your bad history with them. If we put all our focus on them and they don’t have the girls, we’ll have wasted a lot of time and the girls could still be in trouble.”

  “Will it be on the news?” I said.

  “We probably won’t release it to the media right away. We’ll start our investigation and see what we discover by canvassing. If the men do have them, we don’t want them to react in a dangerous manner.”

  “You’re worried they might kill them,” I said, a stab of fear thrusting deep into my guts. I stared hard at his face, trying to find some hope, reassurance.

  “We just want to proceed with caution at this point,” he said.

  “You need to find that warehouse,” I said, frustrated by all these delays. I knew who had the girls. I just needed him to find them.

  “There are too many in the area, so that’s just not practical use of our manpower. We need to canvass, talk to people, and see what other leads turn up.”

  “So you’re just going to walk around?” Dallas said, her tone making it clear she was not impressed. “That’s going to take too long.” I loved her for her bluntness, her ability to say exactly what we were both thinking.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to find them quickly. If you hear anything, let us know, and we’ll keep you posted. I’ll give you my cell number.”

  “What should we be doing?” I said.

  “Call their friends, see if anyone has heard from them. If you decide at a later date that you want to press charges against the men for the assault, we can pursue that matter. Right now let’s focus on finding your daughter and sister.”

  * * *

  I walked out of the station with Dallas on shaky legs, the heat coming up off the pavement making me feel sick. When we got to the car, Dallas opened the doors.

  “We should let it cool off for a minute.”

  We leaned against the side, the metal hot against my back even through my shirt. Dallas’s hair was damp at her forehead, her eyes red-rimmed. She lit a cigarette, taking long inhales, her fingers pinching the cigarette like it was a joint.

  “You okay?” she said, her shoulder bumping against mine.

  “Yeah. What about you?”

  She nodded, took another drag of her cigarette. It was so familiar, the way she held it, the tilt of her head. I felt like a kid again, watching my big sister.

  “Give me one of those,” I said. Dallas passed me a cigarette and the lighter. I hadn’t smoked since I’d found out I was pregnant. I felt the smoke burn down my throat, my head instantly light from the rush of nicotine. I blew the smoke out, studying the police station, still trying to get a grip on my emotions. I felt busted open, scraped raw, dirty, like I wanted to take a long shower.

  “I wonder what they’ll think after they start talking to Crystal’s friends and coworkers,” I said. We both knew the cops might find out Crystal was always taking off and getting into trouble.

  “I don’t know, but they still have to see it through.”

  “I’m pissed they can’t just search the ranch.”

  “Hopefully the men will screw up on something when they talk,” Dallas said. “That’s all it takes sometimes. Then they can get a search warrant.”

  I wanted to think positive, but I couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that we had just exposed ourselves and put Skylar in even more danger.

  “What if he’s right? What if the guys do flip out and they kill the girls?” I put my head in my hands, took some deep
breaths, trying to get a grip.

  “You can’t think like that,” Dallas said, resting her hand on my shoulder. “The cops will find them. We’ll find them.”

  I looked up, met her eyes, and gave her hand a squeeze, grateful again that she was there with me, then took a hard drag of my cigarette. “I still can’t believe Crystal came to this hellhole again.”

  “I can.”

  I turned to her. “You’ve thought about killing them?”

  “Haven’t you?”

  I remembered the rifle jamming in my hands, Brian down on the floor.

  “Yeah. I’ve thought about it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SKYLAR

  I turned my head away from Crystal and closed my eyes tight. I couldn’t believe we were both trapped. I should’ve just left the night Gavin found me at the creek. If I’d called my mom or the police, they might’ve been able to find Crystal. My chest was so tight it felt like someone was squeezing it. I couldn’t get a breath. I sucked desperately at the air. Stop, Skylar, just focus, see if there’s a way out.

  My body shook as I looked around frantically at the door, the boarded-over window. I could see sheer curtains at the top, in a burnt-orange color. They must be hanging on the other side of the boards. If anyone looked, they’d just see the fabric.

  I’d never be able to rip the boards off with my hands tied. I tried to wiggle my hands over my butt, so I could slide my legs through, but he’d rotated my arms when he taped them, forcing my back to arch painfully. I couldn’t bend my arms enough to step through. Crystal was watching me, her expression sad.

  The country music was giving me a headache. He hadn’t turned on the fan and the room was sweltering, making the odor coming off the bucket even worse. I had to try hard not to throw up. My lips were already hurting, and my tongue felt swollen. I was thirsty and I wondered if I’d die of dehydration.

  I stood up and looked around the room again, trying to focus on the details. The bed was in the center of the back wall—the only window was on its left side. Crystal was sitting on the floor in a small stream of light, watching me. The foot of the bed, where I was tied, was closest to the door. It looked like there was a closet to the left, with two bifold doors. A closet meant coat hangers, which we could maybe use for weapons or something, but we had to get there.

  The dresser was in the opposite corner from me, near the closet. The room itself was fairly large, obviously the master bedroom. I could make out a deer head and a few paintings on the wall, hunting scenes.

  He liked to kill things.

  I sank to the floor, my back against the mattress, and pressed my head into my knees, my mind spinning with panicked thoughts. What would he do with my car? What was he going to do to me? I looked at Crystal again. She had her arms wrapped around her legs, but I could still see the bruises on her body. Would Gavin rape me too? Did Brian know Gavin had Crystal? Did Riley know?

  I thought about my mom. What would she do when I didn’t come home Thursday? Would she call the police right away? Would it be too late?

  I’d been so stupid. I thought of all my lies, how clever I’d thought I was to disable the location services on my phone, throwing her off track.

  I tried to stay calm, tried to think what my mom would tell me to do. Wait, Skylar. Think. Plan your escape. Don’t give up. I’ll come find you. It comforted me, thinking of my mom searching. She was smart; she’d know what to do. They’d track Crystal like I did, they’d talk to the lady at the motel, they’d find out somehow that I’d been working at the ranch, they’d get the police to search for us.

  Then I thought about how Gavin had looked at me, how he’d realized I was Brian’s daughter. Would that change things? Maybe Brian would let me go? My hopes plummeted. Of course he wouldn’t, not after I’d seen Crystal. If he knew I was his daughter, he might even kill me sooner.

  He wouldn’t want anyone to ever know about me.

  * * *

  As the hours passed, the room got hotter, the stench from the bucket making my eyes water and my stomach surge into my throat. Flies buzzed in the window and into the bucket, an incessant hum. I couldn’t stop thinking about water, how good it would taste, how dry my mouth felt. I hadn’t eaten for twenty-four hours.

  We were both sitting with our backs against the bed. Sometimes Crystal would rest her head on her knees, like she was sleeping. A few times I caught her watching me, tears in her eyes. I wondered what she’d been doing every day, imagined her lying on the bed, sleeping or staring up at the ceiling, wondered if she’d been hoping we’d rescue her or if she’d just wanted to die. I felt another wave of shame. It was my fault that she was here, and now it was my fault she didn’t get rescued. I had to find a way to get us out of here.

  I studied the bed, the bottom of the posts, hoping there were some wheels we could get off, some metal parts I could use to slice the tape, but it was solid wood. If I could get to the fan I could use the cord to choke Gavin, or maybe bash him over the head with the stereo, but both were out of my reach.

  I stood, motioning for Crystal to do the same. I leaned down and pressed my shoulder into the side of the mattress, pushed with my body. She understood quickly what I was trying to do and started pushing. We used our bodies to shove the bed toward the other wall. I was closer to the fan and stereo, but they were still a frustrating foot away no matter how hard I strained.

  We pushed the bed back into place. My bladder ached from holding on for so long, pains shooting through my stomach. I hooked my thumbs in the back of my shorts and tried to shimmy them down so I could use the bucket, but they were too tight. I had to pee my pants again, feeling ashamed and dirty. Crystal looked away, like she was trying to give me privacy. I tried not to think about it, tried to focus on escaping.

  I wondered if Crystal had tried anything yet and wished we could talk. What should I do when Gavin came back? Try to fight or beg for my life? I had to get him to untie me somehow.

  The room was even hotter, sweat dripping between my shoulder blades, my hair wet at the back of my neck and my forehead. My shorts were damp and uncomfortable. I could smell the sweat and urine on my body. Flies were walking around the edge of the bucket, some landing on Crystal, crawling on the bite marks, but she didn’t move, not even a twitch. I worried she’d get an infection, then I thought maybe she didn’t care anymore, maybe that’s how she’d been surviving. She’d looked terrified earlier, but now she just seemed kind of out of it.

  Flies were buzzing near me now, circling and landing on my jeans shorts. I wiggled my body, trying to get them off.

  I remembered the waitress telling me about the record heat waves in the Sunshine Valley. Gets so hot around here you can fry an egg on the sidewalk. Was Gavin just going to leave us up here to die of starvation or dehydration? I imagined my body turning to a husk, my skin cooking, the flies eating at my eyes.

  The hours passed slowly. He had to be getting off work soon. I strained my ears, wondering if I’d hear his footsteps over the music. I figured I was in some sort of shock, my body breaking out into waves of shivers, and then a numb feeling coming over me. I felt faint sometimes, my head woozy if I moved too fast. It was weird not being able to talk to Crystal. She’d cry sometimes, looking at me, then I’d start crying too.

  It felt late in the day now, seemed like I’d been trapped for hours and hours, but I’d lost all sense of time. I had my head resting on my knees when I noticed the doorknob turning. I looked up with my heart beating fast.

  Gavin walked in, gave us a smile as he turned down the music. He was still wearing work clothes, his jeans covered with dirt, his red T-shirt stained with big sweat circles under the arms. He smelled like manure.

  He was also carrying a couple of sandwiches, the bread squished in his big hand, and two bottles of water.

  “Sorry I’m late, girls. Had some business to take care of. Goddamn, it’s hot in here.” He set the water and sandwiches on the dresser, took his baseball cap off, and rubbed a
t his sweaty hair. “Miss me?”

  I glared at him. Crystal was watching, a nervous expression on her face.

  He sniffed at the air. “You girls stink.” He came over with the water and the sandwiches, squatted in front of me, sniffed again. “Guess you couldn’t get your shorts off, hey?”

  He undid my gag. I inhaled deeply, finally able to suck in a big lungful of air. My mouth was sore from being stretched for so long, my tongue thick and swollen. I licked my dry lips, the salty sweat at the corners of my mouth.

  He reached up and grabbed one of the bottles, fed me the water. I sucked at it desperately, trying not to let any spill out, swallowing it all down. When the bottle was empty he shoved a sandwich into my mouth, let me take a bite. It was dry, tasted like old meat and cheese, but I bit and chewed as fast as I could.

  He replaced the gag then moved on to Crystal and repeated the process. Then he stood up, threw the bottles toward the door, and came over to me.

  “Get on your feet.”

  Fear rushed through my body. Was this it? Was he going to kill me? I glanced over at Crystal. Her eyes were terrified again.

  “Don’t look at her.” He gripped my arm, pulled me to my feet. “I found your car. You won’t have to worry about the cops impounding it.” That mean smile again.

  His hands were at the front of my shorts. I screamed behind my gag, tried to step backward. He grabbed my rope leash, gave it a quick snap. The rope tightened around my throat.

  “Unless you want more of that, stand still.”

  I froze, tears forming in my eyes and dripping down as he undid my button and zipper, staring into my face, his tongue licking his lips.

  He stepped back, lowered my shorts, leaning over slightly, his face brushing against my crotch. I closed my eyes. My body was shaking violently.

  “Lift your feet.” I lifted them one at a time. He took off my shorts, threw them into the corner. “Going to have to burn those.”

  I felt him step closer, felt the heat of his body. He put his finger inside the waistband of my underwear, and I flinched. He circled his finger around to my lower back and then the front again.

 

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