Not Quite Broken: A Callaghan Family & Friends Romance

by Abbie Zanders

  Questions and more questions and no answers.

  The boy was key, that much she knew. That’s what she had to focus on. Perhaps she could use her knowledge and chosen career as an advantage, make herself seem useful. Offer to help him in exchange for... what? Staying alive?

  Joe returned, eyeing the now-empty tray with something akin to approval. He removed a key from his pocket and cautiously unlocked the cuff, keeping his body at a defensive angle.

  “Want to try walking or do you need me to carry you?”

  “I’ll walk, thanks.”

  Walking turned out to be more of a painful hobbling, but thankfully, it wasn’t a far distance. Her captor remained in close proximity, though he did afford her privacy to do what she needed to do. Despite numerous attempts, he refused to offer any further information other than a directive to “get some sleep” before he left her alone again.

  It was sometime later when she heard it: the sound of a key in the lock. It couldn’t possibly be morning yet; a brief glance toward the narrow window confirmed it was still dark.

  The door opened slowly, the beam of a small flashlight cutting along the floor. Her heart started pounding furiously as she sat up. Was this it? Was this when she discovered the horror of what the other women had experienced?

  The door closed again and the flashlight extinguished. Tori listened, her senses heightened in the darkness. She heard the slight rustle of clothing, the barely audible shuffle of movement as he came closer, stopping several feet from the bed.

  She waited in the silence as the seconds ticked by, each one longer than the last. Then the end of the bed dipped and she screamed.

  “Be quiet,” scolded a little boy’s voice. “You don’t want to wake him.”

  Relief washed over her. It wasn’t Joe, coming to do God knew what. It was his son.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. He said I couldn’t yet, that you weren’t ready to see me, but I think you are.”

  “I am,” she agreed. Maybe if she could befriend the boy, she could convince him to call for help.

  “You’re not like the others.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You didn’t scream when you saw me.”

  That ache she’d felt earlier returned. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “Have you?” She sensed him moving closer and kept herself still.

  “Oh, yes. I’m a physical therapist. Do you know what that is?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I help people regain their mobility after they’ve been hurt.”

  “How?”

  “Special exercises, mostly. You mentioned others. What happened to them?”

  “They’re gone. Can you tell me a story?”

  Clearly, the boy didn’t want to talk about the women who had been here before her, and if they had reacted to the sight of him with horrified expressions or screams, she could understand why. Even in the darkness, she could sense the boy’s pain. She wouldn’t add to it.

  She tried to think of a tale appropriate for a young boy. She hadn’t been around kids enough to know what they might like. “Do you like superheroes?”

  His answer wasn’t what she expected. “You said you’ve seen worse than me. Tell me about one of them.”

  She felt him settle on the bed beside her. She wondered what his father would think of that if he knew.

  “All right.” Tori thought for a moment. “I had a little boy once who wanted to be Batman and jumped off of a roof.”

  “That’s stupid. Batman’s not real. Tell me something else.”

  “Something else. Okay.” She searched for something that might grab his interest without horrifying him. She rejected the majority of clients she saw regularly. If the kid wasn’t interested in her Batman story, he sure wouldn’t be interested in knee and hip replacements or stroke recoveries. He wanted a real hero. Brian McCain’s image popped into her head.

  “I have a friend, a guy who was a soldier. He was hurt when a bunch of explosives went off unexpectedly.”

  She felt the boy shift closer. “What happened?”

  “Well, I don’t know all the details. He doesn’t like to talk about it. But from what I understand, he and his men were transporting ammunition across the desert, trying to get them to a village where they could use it against the bad guys terrorizing the people there. One of the bad guys found out and fired a rocket launcher into one of the supply trucks.”

  “Your friend, was he hurt?”

  “Oh, yeah. Broken bones, cuts from all the flying metal and debris. Burns, too.”

  “Does he have scars?”

  “Lots of them.”

  “Do people look at him funny? Or scream when they see him?”

  “Not when I’m around,” she said. “Everyone thinks he’s a hero and that he’s very brave.”

  “Because he’s a soldier.”

  “Partly. But mostly because he refuses to give up. He doesn’t let what happened hold him back or slow him down. He works hard and inspires everyone around him, every day.”

  “Including you?”

  “Including me,” she admitted.

  He was quiet for a moment, then she felt him slipping off the bed. “That was a good story. Do you have more like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have to go now. He won’t be happy if he finds me here.”

  “Who? Your dad?”

  The boy didn’t answer.

  “What will happen to you? You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

  The door opened and the flashlight clicked on.

  “Wait, will you at least tell me your name?”

  “Danny.”

  “Be careful, Danny.”

  “I will.” The door closed and she was alone in the dark once again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By Tuesday morning, there was no more pretending, no more fooling himself that Tori was simply ignoring him. She wouldn’t just skip town. She wouldn’t just decide not to show up for work.

  From his position across the street, Brian stared at the old house, willing the view to change. He wanted to blink and see her Jeep parked in the back, or the second floor lights go on. He wanted to see Tori step outside, dressed and ready for the day.

  None of those things happened.

  Unable to sleep, he’d driven to her place shortly after midnight and had remained there ever since. He kept thinking about what he would say and do upon her return. Apologizing was at the top of the list, right after he held her in his arms and thanked God for bringing her back to him and giving him a second chance.

  He hadn’t been granted that chance, not yet, but he wasn’t giving up. Who else would fight for her if not him?

  Starting up his Jeep, he enabled the Bluetooth. “Call Ian,” he commanded as he put the vehicle in gear and executed a U-turn. Though it was barely past dawn, Ian picked up immediately.

  “I was wondering when you were going to get around to calling,” Ian said in greeting. “Get your ass over to the Pub.” Ian disconnected before Brian could utter a single word.

  When he arrived at Jake’s, Taryn further surprised him by shoving a mug of coffee in his hand and telling him, “Go on up. They’re waiting for you.”

  He did, feeling almost as at home as he did in his parents’ house. The second floor was a bevy of activity. Computers and open laptops were all over the place, scrolling and displaying screens of information. A satellite map had been spread out on a large rectangular table. Callaghans filled the space, several wearing headsets and talking quietly into microphones.

  Brian looked around in awe. This was the Callaghans in action, doing what they did best. Hope welled inside him.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Ian smirked. “While you were sitting vigil outside Tori’s place, we decided to get the ball rolling.”

  “When Ian showed up at Maggie’s, he told us what was going on.” Shane said, pinning Brian with a quelling look.
“The question is, why didn’t you?”

  “Anyway,” Ian interrupted, looking between the two of them, “we all agreed it was better to jump in sooner rather than later. We knew you’d come to your senses eventually.”

  Well, hell.

  “Okay, so here’s the SITREP. The police have been notified and given the pertinent details, sparse as they are. They’ll be notifying the media and getting her picture plastered all over television and social media. I’m keeping one eye on the tip line so we can act immediately if something shakes loose.”

  “Sean and Nicki are going to assist the police in sweeping the route from the air, getting a bird’s eye view to see if there’s anything we’re missing from the ground and putting some of our new infrared tech to use. Kane’s pulling satellite images between here and Wellesboro, hoping we’ll get a hit. They’re moving constantly, so it’s a long shot, but one image is all we need.”

  “The police will probably want to talk to you since you were closer to her than anyone else. In the meantime, make yourself useful and help Kieran review traffic cam video feeds from the weekend. I’ve got facial recognition scanners going, but there’s nothing like a set of eyes for picking up a vehicle like Tori’s.”

  Brian didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything. “Hey,” Ian grinned, “we got this, yeah? Not our first rodeo.”

  Brian swallowed hard and nodded, taking his place beside Kieran. Kieran followed up Ian’s statement with “If we could find you in an Afghani tunnel after three years, we can sure as hell find Tori in our own fucking backyard after three days.”

  Despite their determined optimism and highly-skilled efforts, no magical unicorns appeared in the next few hours. Possible leads were systematically eliminated. This didn’t appear to dampen their spirits at all. In fact, Ian said that what they didn’t find told them as much about what might have happened as what they did.

  No further charges appeared on Tori’s card, either debit or credit, and the only video that they found was the security camera video from when Tori stopped for fuel.

  At that point, Tori had been alone. They reviewed the recording multiple times, using slick enhancement technology. Nothing about her actions or behavior suggested she was under duress. When they zoomed in on her face, however, there was no missing the sadness in her eyes. Brian made a silent vow: when they got Tori back, he would do whatever it took to erase that sadness and make sure it never shadowed her face again.

  The police did call as expected and requested that Brian come to the station and make a statement. As he stood up to leave, Shane stood up as well. “I’m coming with you.”

  Brian bristled at the idea that he needed a lawyer with him to talk with the cops. “Wouldn’t you be better off here?”

  Shane’s lips compressed into a thin line. “Like it or not, you are the last person to have seen or spoken with Tori.”

  “You can’t possibly be suggesting—”

  “Of course I’m not. But the police are desperate and might be overzealous in their questioning. You are the closest thing they have to an eye witness and they’re going to exploit that. I also plan to use this opportunity to gauge how their investigation is going by reading their body language, behavior, and things like that. Can’t do that from a police report.”

  Brian immediately felt like an ass and opened his mouth to apologize, but Shane held up his hand. “Save it. I know.”

  Of course he did, the empathic fucker.

  Shane remained stiff and tight-lipped on the drive down to the station. They were almost there when Brian realized why Shane seemed particularly affected—the whole situation probably brought back a lot of bad memories for Shane, memories of when Lacie had been taken. Brian hadn’t been around for that; his ass had still been marking time in that hellhole in Afghanistan. Finding out about it after the fact had been bad enough. Now he knew first hand some of what his brother-in-law must have been going through and felt a bit of empathy himself.

  The detectives in charge of the case, two guys by the name of Randolph and Freed, looked understandably weary. They were under a lot of pressure. After four unsolved murders, they were no closer to finding the killer than they had been after the first.

  This time was going to be different. The sick bastard might have taken Tori, but she was not going to be victim number five. She did have people who cared about her. People who would go to extreme lengths to ensure she made it back to them.

  They exchanged greetings and were quickly shown to a conference room where the four of them sat down at a table. One of the detectives—Brian thought it was Randolph— suggested Shane didn’t need to be present, but Shane respectfully disagreed.

  “Thank you for coming in, Mr. McCain. We understand you are acquainted with Ms. Donovan.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what is the nature of that relationship?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Would you say you are good friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “The two of you spent a lot of time together?”

  “Yes. Hiking and biking, things like that.” Holding hands. Sharing tender kisses. Making love under the stars.

  “Recently?”

  “Not as much recently, no.”

  “Why is that? Did you have a falling out?”

  “No, more of a stepping back.” Brian shifted, wondering exactly how much he should say. He looked to Shane, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “Things were moving quickly, we decided to slow them down.”

  The detective scribbled in his notes. “Was that a mutual decision?”

  Not really, he thought, but he hadn’t really given Tori much of a choice and she hadn’t called him on it. “Yes.”

  “When was the last time you saw or spoke with Ms. Donovan?”

  “Friday night.”

  “Want to tell us about that?”

  “I was tending bar at Jake’s Irish Pub and she came in.”

  “To see you?”

  Brian nodded.

  “Why?”

  “She said she was thinking of driving up to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon and wanted to know if I was interested in going along.”

  “And were you?”

  “No. I had... other plans.”

  “Was anyone else present?”

  “Yes.” Brian gave them a few names.

  “What happened after you declined her invitation?”

  “She left.”

  “Was that the last time you saw or spoke with her?”

  “No. I went over to her place after that.”

  One of the detectives, the one who had looked almost bored, perked up. “Why?”

  Brian exhaled, choosing his words carefully. “Because I felt bad about not being able to go with her.”

  “Did you enter her apartment that night, Mr. McCain?”

  “No, I stayed outside. We talked through the door.”

  “Did that anger you?” Something about the detective’s voice set off warning bells. Beside him, Shane shifted. “What are you suggesting, Detective Randolph?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. But as of right now, Mr. McCain is the last person to have seen and spoken with the victim.”

  It was exactly as Shane had predicted. Brian shot to his feet. “Her name is Tori,” he hissed, “and she will not end up like the others.”

  “Please have a seat and calm down, Mr. McCain,” said the other guy, the older of the two. He shot his partner a warning look. “We understand this is difficult. We are simply trying to obtain as much information as possible.”

  Brian nodded and sank back down.

  “Can you provide us with the names of any of her other friends? Someone she might have turned to?”

  “Tori is friends with my sister, Lacie, but they didn’t speak again after seeing each other in the Pub.”

  “What about a coworker? Anyone she might have gotten together with occasionally?”

  “Not that I know of.
”

  “Family?”

  “She didn’t mention any.”

  It was becoming painfully clear to Brian that he knew very little about Tori. She hadn’t talked about her background and he hadn’t asked. Why hadn’t he asked?

  Because you didn’t want to know, his dark voice whispered. You didn’t want to get too close.

  “Did she ever say anything to indicate that she was being watched? Targeted? Followed?”

  Brian snapped back from his dark musings. “They guy who lived in the apartment beneath her. Simon something-or-other. I caught him watching her from his window one day and said something to her. She said he was always watching her coming and going.”

  “Did she seem concerned?”

  “Not particularly. She didn’t like it, but wasn’t worried.”

  The detective scribbled again. “Okay, we’ll check it out.”

  After a few more questions, Brian and Shane walked outside. It seemed unfair that the sun could be shining and the skies could be clear when Tori was God knew where enduring God knew what.

  “Why didn’t you say anything about Tori’s neighbor before?” Shane asked irritably, pulling out his phone as they got into his Lexus. He didn’t wait for Brian to answer, speaking into the phone. “Ian, check out the guy who lives in the apartment beneath Tori. Seems he had a thing for watching her come and go... I don’t know... Simon, no last name... The police are going to look into it, but... Yeah, we’re headed back now... Roger that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Some of the abject fear of being abducted and held captive had receded, leaving her feeling calmer, more in control. Being terrified was exhausting and sapped energy she couldn’t afford to lose.

  The hardest part of her confinement was the waiting and the not knowing what to expect next. It wasn’t as if she was anxious for him to ... do whatever he planned on doing... but it wasn’t in her nature to sit still and do nothing. She was used to moving. When she couldn’t, she got fidgety. Unfortunately, her sprained ankle precluded her from pacing to ease the restlessness.

  Her ankle was feeling slightly better, though. Staying off of it and keeping it elevated had reduced the swelling and the ibuprofen took the edge off the ache.