The Treehouse

Home > Other > The Treehouse > Page 12
The Treehouse Page 12

by Andrew J Brandt


  He stood up and looked down at her, this bawling mess of a girl. He placed his glasses back on his face. “I’ve done this too many times to count, Allison. I’ve had girls who gave in easily and I’ve had fighters. You’re nothing special. Just another paycheck for me.”

  “You don’t even have a family, do you?” she said through spit and blood. “It was just an act.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “It does make for a great story, doesn’t it? Almost made you feel sorry for me. What can I say? It usually keeps the more aggressive ones a little more docile. A little easier to handle. They think they’re helping me out.”

  “Well,” she said, staring at the man with eyes full of rage and despair, “I want you to know that when you’re rotting in a jail cell for what you’ve done, you’ll remember me. And you’ll know that Allison Beaker was the girl who took you down.”

  A sound of tires crunching on asphalt outside caught the man’s attention. The brakes squeaked and two car doors opened and shut. “That may have to wait,” the man said. “Your chariot has arrived.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Friday March 21 | 1:35am

  LUCAS AND ELIJAH approached the place that his phone displayed. It was a nondescript apartment complex of about a dozen buildings. There were four townhouses that lined the path into the complex, and four more buildings on each side of the path behind them. A black electronically-controlled gate blocked the entrance and a large sign, white text on black background, in front of the entrance read “APPLEGATE TOWNHOMES”.

  His phone buzzed and when he saw the incoming call he gulped. The name on the screen just said “DAD.” He answered it. Before his father even had a chance to speak, Lucas said, “Dad, I know you’re mad. But just listen.”

  He couldn’t even finish explaining as his father was yelling on the other end of the call, “I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking but you better get back home right now, son! Your mother is damn near having a panic attack!”

  “Dad, listen to me,” Lucas said, sternly. “I need you and Tyler’s dad to come to the Applegate Townhomes on the southside of town. This is where he took Allison. I’m here now.”

  “You’re what?!”

  “I can explain later, Dad. But Allison is here. Elijah and I came to rescue her. So, please, get the cops over here now. I have to go now. I’m sorry.” He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.

  Elijah looked at him with a concerned side glance. “You know we’re in deep shit, right?”

  “Oh yeah.” Lucas knew that their parents were losing their minds, but he also knew that he had to come here; that Allison sent him that beacon for a reason.

  The two boys walked up to the gate, finding that it was impossible to squeeze through the metal slats. Lucas estimated that it was about ten feet high as well, and there was no real place to grip to climb over. Even if they could reach the top of the gate, coiled barbed wire lined it.

  “This place looks like a prison,” Elijah said.

  “I know. We need to figure out how to get in here though,” Lucas said, shaking the bars.

  “Does this fence circle the whole complex?” Elijah asked, examining the gate and fencing.

  Lucas walked the length of the fence for a few yards, but as far as he could see, there were no breaks in the slats. Eventually, the metal gating was replaced with a brick wall. It, too, however, was over ten feet tall and had the same barbed wire at the top. “I think so,” he conceded

  They heard the sound of tires crunching on the loose asphalt and a vehicle turn onto the road leading to the complex. Lucas and Elijah quickly raced their bicycles out of view from the road and they watched as a black Chevy Tahoe approach the gate. The electronic controller to the metal gate engaged, and it was pulled away from the road on a motorized chain. Once the gate opened, the Tahoe drove through.

  “Let’s go!” Lucas sprinted for the gate and Elijah followed. The gate was closing quickly, and they ran along the perimeter, no more than ten yards between them and the opening.

  Lucas jumped through and turned to help Elijah. Elijah put his arm through but pulled it back instinctively as the gate closed between them. “I’m so sorry, Lucas. I tried!” His eyes welled up. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Elijah. It’ll be okay. Stay by the bikes. My dad and Mr. Washington will be here soon. Keep a look out for them. I’m going for my sister.”

  “Here,” Elijah said, sliding the backpack from his shoulders. “You’re going to need this.”

  Lucas grabbed the bag and unzipped it, pulling the weapon from its cavity. He held it in his left hand, the muzzle pointed to the ground, and his finger free of the trigger. “Thank you for coming with me. You and Tyler are the best friends I could ever ask for.”

  Elijah grabbed onto the bars of the gate, like a prisoner peering out from his cell. “Maybe if you find your sister and we can rescue her, our parents will let us hang out again after this.”

  Lucas smiled and fist bumped Elijah through the gate. He turned to face the apartment complex, knowing that, at least until his dad arrived with Detective Washington, he was completely alone.

  The lights from the complex illuminated the driveway, though Lucas followed the path quietly in the shadows. He held the pistol in his hand as he turned a corner.

  The black Tahoe was parked in front of one of the townhomes. Lucas watched from behind the corner across the way as two men got out of the car. They were both in business suits. The driver was completely bald on top of his head, with a full beard growing underneath. The other was clean shaven and had long black hair touching his shoulders.

  Lucas watched as they stood at the front door. They didn’t knock to announce their arrival, they simply stood on the stoop and waited. After about twenty seconds, the door opened.

  The man who answered the door, Lucas saw, looked like he’d been in a fist fight. Framed in black wayfarer glasses, his face was dark with blood around his right eye. There was blood on his button-down shirt.

  Without a word, the man let the two new arrivals in. Lucas continued to watch. He didn’t know what was happening, but he feared the worst. A feeling deep in his gut told him that these men were here to help dispose of a body.

  Allison’s body.

  After a few minutes, the door opened again, and Lucas held his breath. The man in the glasses came out first, and then the two men in suits.

  Along with Allison.

  Lucas could see her. He could tell that she was injured and bleeding, but she was alive. She was holding her right arm close to her body. Her head was held down low in defeat. She walked slowly, dragging her feet while the two suits led her to the Tahoe. The man in glasses opened the back passenger door for them.

  He couldn’t believe it. The feeling of elation, however, quickly turned to rage. He realized that his sister was injured because of the man in glasses. She had apparently tried to fight him, to escape, and by the looks of it, she lost. He wondered if that was how the other girl, the one buried in the woods, had lost her life. If she, too, tried to escape and this man killed her for it.

  From his lookout point and filled with rage and despair, Lucas raised the gun in his hand, aimed it at the man in glasses and pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Friday March 21 | 1:40am

  ELIJAH HEARD ANOTHER car approaching the complex behind him and he moved away from the gate. Just as he and Lucas did earlier, he hid in the grass off to the side of the entrance of the apartment complex and watched as the new arrival pull up to the gate.

  Two men got out of the car, an unmarked police cruiser in a charcoal gray, and a tall black man emerging from the driver’s side. Elijah immediately recognized them. He jumped up from his prone position in the grass. “Mr. Washington!” he called out and ran toward them.

  John Washington turned to see the boy running toward him. “Elijah?” he asked. As the boy got closer, John Washington could see that it was, indeed, Tyler’s friend Elijah. “W
hat is going on here, son?” he asked.

  “We think this is where he took Allison,” Elijah said.

  Bobby Beaker exited from the passenger side of the vehicle. “Elijah, where is Lucas?” he asked sternly.

  Elijah pointed to the gate. “He went in. A black SUV came up to the gate and he got through before it closed again.”

  John went to the keypad near the gate. The metal box was mounted on a steel pole about four feet high.

  “Do you know the code to get in?” Bobby asked.

  “All of these complexes and gated communities have emergency codes programmed in for EMS and police. I’m trying to remember it. It’s been a while since I was on patrol,” he said as he thumbed at the control box. He pressed a few buttons and the panel beeped, but the gate did not open. He repeated this effort a few times, cursing every time it didn’t work.

  Bobby turned back to Elijah. “You said a black SUV came in here? Did you see the black car?”

  “Right,” Elijah said. “An SUV, a Tahoe I think, pulled in about ten minutes ago. We didn’t see the car that took Allison. But we know this is where he brought her. She’s definitely in there.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because she shared her location with Lucas earlier. Like, on his phone. He could see it on the map.”

  John looked up from the keypad and at Bobby, both men perplexed. “What do you mean? Her phone was tossed in a yard across the street from our house. We have her phone.” Bobby said.

  “Right. But she somehow had her friend’s phone, and she sent Lucas the location. So, we rode over here to rescue her.”

  Suddenly, Bobby remembered. Allison’s friend Amilyn had been over earlier in the evening, but she’d left well before Allison was taken. What he didn’t understand was why did Allison have Amilyn’s phone?

  As they were talking, the gate rumbled to life and the motorized chain began to pull it open. “Got it!” John Washington said and pumped his fist.

  “Elijah, I need you to stay here in the car. Lock the doors,” John said. “Bobby, in the center console is a Walther. Get it.” The detective pulled his own weapon, a Glock 22, from his hip holster.

  Lucas opened the back door of the cruiser and sat in the backseat. It was plastic and uncomfortable. A metal barrier separated him from the front seats. He’d never been in the back of a cop car before, and despite it not being very comfortable, he felt safe in here instead of hiding in the grass out in the open.

  As the two men entered the gate on foot, a blast rang through the air. They both quickly realized it was the sound of a gunshot. The two men looked at each other and sprinted as fast as they could toward the interior of the complex.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  Friday March 21 | 1:44am

  THE MAN IN the glasses, standing by the open Tahoe door, dropped to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain. The bullet hit him below the knee, tearing through the flesh and bone in his shin. Several expletives left his mouth as he held on to his leg.

  Lucas opened his eyes and peered around the corner of his hiding spot to see the chaos and commotion his gunshot created. He couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing, the blast was louder than he’d thought it would be. The two men escorting Allison to the car surveyed their surroundings frantically, searching for the source of the shot that hit the man with the glasses.

  Lucas stayed hidden behind the corner of the building, hoping they could not see him and hoping that his distraction would help Allison escape. However, the men had a firm grasp on her and led her to the vehicle. She was crying frantically now, struggling in the arms of her new captors.

  As they forced her into the backseat of the Tahoe, another shot rang through the night air and dust puffed up from the ground around the men’s feet, nearly hitting the man in glasses again. However, this one wasn’t from Lucas, and he searched for the source. He saw them, coming toward the Tahoe.

  He instantly recognized them, under the moonlight. His dad and John Washington ran up on the scene, weapons drawn. “Police! Get on the ground!” Detective Washington yelled. He repeated the command, and the two men in suits dropped to their knees, with their hands above their heads.

  John and Bobby approached slowly now, their weapons raised and readied on the men. John reached for a radio clipped to his belt.

  “Dispatch, this is Detective Washington. We’ve got a 10-71 at the Applegate Townhomes. Location, 10121 South Pheasant Drive. I repeat, 10-71, requesting backup. Suspects in custody.”

  A woman’s voice crackled through the other end and confirmed his request. Almost immediately, sirens could be heard in the distance.

  As they approached, Bobby could see Allison’s legs sticking out from the backseat of the Tahoe. “Allison?” he called out.

  “I’m here, Bobby!” she said through her tears.

  John Washington stepped behind the men and grabbed one of them by the arms. He twisted the man’s hands behind his back and secured them with a pair of handcuffs and then pressed the man to the ground. “Bobby,” he said, “get this one.”

  Bobby came around slowly, weapon stayed on the man still on his knees. John reached down into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of thick zip ties. “This will have to do for now,” he said. Bobby took them and tied the second suited man’s hands behind his back. He pressed the man to the ground as John Washington turned his attention to the man in glasses.

  “You got the raw end of this deal tonight, didn’t you?” John said to the man as he examined the gunshot wound. “We’re gonna get you fixed up so you don’t bleed out on us. But your night isn’t over.” John zip tied the man’s hands in front of this body and helped the man lean against the front tire of the Tahoe.

  John reached for his radio again. “Dispatch, Detective Washington. 10-52 here at the Applegate. We’ve got one wounded.”

  “10-4, Detective.”

  Bobby finally took his attention away from the bounded men and went to the open passenger door of the Tahoe. He saw Allison there, sobbing and covered in dirt and blood. She held her broken arm against her chest. “Allison,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh my god, baby girl, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am now. I was so scared,” she said. “And arm is broken.”

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said, as he lifted her out of the Tahoe.

  Three police cruisers drove up to the scene, lighting up the entire parking lot. Officer Ortega and Officer Sullivan came up to John Washington to await their orders. “Get these men in a cruiser,” the detective said.

  The officers grabbed the men in suits and Officer Sullivan replaced the zip ties on the one with long hair with metal handcuffs. The two officers then roughly led them to their vehicles, depositing the bounded men in the backseats.

  Once they were secured, Officer Sullivan shut the door to the cruiser and approached Detective Washington again. “Sir,” he said. “I’ve run into this young woman a couple of times. With your permission, I’d like to escort her and her father to the hospital.”

  “Thank you, officer,” John said.

  As Officer Sullivan walked Bobby and Allison to his cruiser, Lucas appeared from his hiding spot. “Dad!” he yelled out. Bobby turned to see his son behind the corner of the building.

  “Lucas!” he shouted.

  Lucas ran up to his father and wrapped his arms around the man. “Dad, you rescued us!”

  “I am so glad you’re safe, son. You don’t know how scared I was tonight.”

  “Dad, I took your gun. I’m sorry.”

  Bobby’s eyes widened. “You did what? Where is it now?”

  “I left it behind the building over there.” Lucas released himself from his father’s grip. “I shot him. I didn’t know what to do. They were going to take her, and I had to do something. So, I shot him.”

  “Officer Sullivan,” Bobby said, turning to the officer escorting them. “Will you retrieve the Glock that Lucas left behind that building?”
<
br />   Sullivan nodded and did so. Bobby turned back to his son. “I don’t know what to say, son. I’m mad and scared and just happy that you’re safe. That both of you are.”

  They continued to Officer Sullivan’s police cruiser and got in. Sullivan hopped in the driver’s seat.

  “Sullivan,” Bobby said, “there’s another boy in John’s car. We need to get him as well.”

  Allison leaned against Bobby. “You’re my hero, Dad.”

  ◆◆◆

  The hospital was cold, as hospitals usually are, and Lucas sat in a plastic chair next to Allison’s bed. His eyes were heavy as he looked at his sister, now in a hospital gown and cleaned up from the altercation. Her arm had been set and was in a cast and she slept soundlessly, knocked out from a mix of pain medication and exhaustion.

  Bobby and Stephanie leaned over their daughter, watching her sleep. A knock at the door startled them, and they all turned to see John Washington at the doorway.

  “How is she doing?” he asked.

  “Sleeping like a baby,” Stephanie said.

  “We got some information for you guys, I thought you’d like to know as soon as possible,” the detective said.

  He had a folder tucked under his arm and he opened it up. Pulling out a sheet from the folder, he handed it to Bobby. “His name is Adam Reese. Thirty-seven years old. He admitted to the murder of Ariel Perez, but claims it was an accident. After he’s sentenced, he’ll be behind bars for the rest of his life.”

  The Beakers looked at the paper and read over the charges. Adam Reese’s mugshot, taken shortly after his arrest earlier in the night, was in the top right corner of the page. The man had no previous convictions, no previous arrests.

 

‹ Prev