Nadia Siddiqui - Preyed Upon

by Microsoft Office User

  was dangerously weak. Using her panic to create one last ounce of energy, Tori let go of

  her neck and dove forward, as if she were diving into a deep swimming pool. The attacker

  didn't expect Tori to dive forward and was momentarily yanked toward his victim. Tori

  threw her hands down next to the man she shot and tried to find her gun. Instead her

  hands struck the knife the stranger had intended to kill her with. With no choice but to

  compromise, Tori grabbed the knife with both hands as if she had wrapped her hands

  around a drinking glass and then brought the knife over her head and plunged it backward

  as hard as she could. The tip of the sharp knife struck the attacker in his right eye. He let

  out a painful scream, released Tori, grabbed his eye, and then fled.

  Tori dropped forward and began coughing and gasping for air as thin streams of

  blood dripped from her neck. She ripped loose the painful string attached to her neck,

  managed to locate her gun, and then--and only then--dropped the knife from her

  trembling hands. Uncertain if her attacker might return, she crawled to the front door,

  placed her back against the wood, and aimed her gun into the small foyer. “That wasn't

  Matthew . . . ” Tori whispered, feeling as if she might vomit. The taste of fear and . . . yes,

  death, wandered around her mouth. Never had Tori tasted such a poisonous concoction.

  Shaking violently, she waited for her attacker to return. When she heard a police

  siren appear in the distance a few minutes later, she began crying. Why? Tori forced her

  emotions to conform to her desire to appear as a woman who was in absolute control of

  her life, but she was still a woman, a fragile woman who needed to be loved, protected and

  cared for. Tori lowered her gun, forced her legs to work, opened the front door and

  stepped out into a cold rain.

  A tall, thin, nerdy kid wearing a deputy sheriff's uniform, saw Tori step out of her

  home carrying a gun and waving at him. Deputy Steve Marlow raced a fancy Dodge

  Charger up to Tori's driveway, grabbed his gun, jumped out into the rain, and yelled:

  “Drop the gun . . . hands in the air . . . drop the gun.” Tori wasn't surprised that the idiot

  cop was overreacting. After all, she was holding a gun. “Drop the gun . . . now!”

  Tori dropped her gun on a wet, brown lawn and placed her hands in the air. “This is

  my house . . . I was attacked . . .” And with those words, Tori Whitfield leaned forward and

  vomited and then . . . her world went dark. She awoke in a hospital emergency room. A

  week later, after answering a hoard of questions from two local detectives--and

  demanding answers herself, answers that never came--Tori left Greenson and drove to

  North Ridge feeling bruised and weak, angry and helpless . . . but never more determined

  to find who had almost killed her and who was behind her sister's disappearance.

  Tori drove past the Tennessee School for the Blind, hung a right off Walnut Street

  and made her way onto Brown Avenue toward the Police Academy, driving through heavy

  sleet. “Finally,” she mumbled, grateful to be on Lebanon Pike after getting lost two times.

  “Why did my GPS take me in those other directions . . .” Tori shook her head and focused

  on the road. An hour later, after traveling longer than expected, she was walked to a brick

  building that housed female cadets. The building reminded Tori of a college dorm except

  a college dorm was full of life. The building was surrounded by gray skies, sleet and a

  depressing landscape.

  “This is your dorm room,” a female cop--half pretty and half commando--told Tori,

  as they faced a closed gray door. “Orientation is tomorrow morning at one o'clock.

  Orientation is mandatory. Be there or go home.”

  “I didn't drive forty miles for nothing,” Tori told Officer Melanie Hocker, standing in

  a gray, lifeless hallway.

  Melanie eyed her with a disapproving expression. “What? Don't come here with a

  chip on your shoulder,” Melanie warned Tori. “I became a cop when I was twenty-five.

  I've been a cop for close to ten years now. In that time I've learned one thing that I always

  keep close to my heart: Don't have an attitude. ”

  Tori stared into Melanie's hard but concerned eyes. “I—” she began.

  “You shot and killed an intruder and then were attacked and nearly killed,” Melanie

  cut in.

  “Yes, I know. Everyone knows. How?”

  Melanie shook her head. “You basically dismantled Detective Lory. I'm surprised

  your application wasn't thrown into the trash after the interview you gave.”

  “I was asked honest questions and gave honest answers in return,” Tori told Melanie,

  keeping her voice stern. She sat down a green suitcase and folded her arms. “If Detective

  Lory would have carried out a thorough investigation, perhaps my sister would have been

  found and I wouldn’t be standing here and carrying on my conscience the death of some

  man whose name I don't even know.” Tori felt anger touch her eyes. “By the way, I did

  receive a call and was asked to reconsider my application. My lawyer made it clear to . . .

  the person . . . who called me that my application had already been accepted, that I had

  already passed all the necessary requirements to be accepted into the academy, and that

  by denying me in a last-minute notice would result in a lawsuit.”

  Melanie shook her head. “You're barking up the wrong tree. I don't know what you're

  expecting to accomplish, but let me explain that if--and that is a big if--you graduate and

  become a cop, you're going to spend two to three years as a patrol cop and nothing more.

  Then, and if . . . and this is another big if . . . you want to move up the ladder, you're going

  to have to fight your heart out. And then what? So you make it up to detective . . . do you

  think you're going to find your sister?”

  “What do you know about my sister?” Tori snapped. “My sister was a wonderful,

  amazing, loving mother who never harmed anyone. Now, she's missing . . . possibly dead.”

  Tori narrowed her eyes. “I don't care how long it takes me, Officer Hocker, I'm going to

  find out what happened to my sister . . . and who tried to kill me.”

  “I admire your passion—”

  “It's not passion—”

  “Let me continue,” Melanie ordered. “I admire your purpose, but I let me warn you;

  we may be living in a time when it seems that Fred Flintstone isn't in charge anymore, but

  we women still have to fight.” Melanie glanced up and down the hallway. “This is a man's

  world,” she warned and then turned and walked away.

  Tori shook her head, picked up her suitcase, and then walked into a bare room

  furnished with two beds, two wooden wall lockers and two desks. The sight of the room

  almost made her break down. “Stay strong,” she pleaded and then focused entirely on

  choosing a bed and getting settled down.

  The following day Tori, dressed in a gray and blue sweatshirt, she had been issued,

  put on a blue coat and followed a line of female cadets into a dimly lit auditorium. A group

  of male cadets were already sitting in the auditorium talking about this or that. Not one

  male cadet acknowledged that the female cadets had arrived. No. Each male cadet was

  focused on becoming a cop and the majority of them had no desire to serve
alongside a

  woman. Not that each male cadet didn't like women. Most of the cadets were married and

  even the single cadets hungered to find a girlfriend. It was a simple matter of being a cop:

  Cops were men, not women. Women were weak; men were strong. Women belonged in

  jobs that were designed for women and men belonged in jobs designed for men. The

  attitude was neither chauvinist or discriminatory—simply honest. These were the

  thoughts Tori mulled on as she waited for the orientation to begin, sitting next to a very

  beautiful twenty-four-year-old young woman named Haley. “I don't think we've met?”

  Haley told Tori, speaking in a low voice. “My name is Haley McKinney.”

  Tori glanced to her right and looked into Haley's beautiful face. What in the world

  was a young woman like Haley doing in the police academy? Haley was beautiful. “My

  name if Tori Whitfield.”

  Haley offered a friendly smile. “Well, we made it,” she said in a relieved voice. “We're

  here . . . now all we have to do is survive.”

  “Why are you here?” Tori dared to ask. “You don't seem like the type.”

  A deep sorrow rushed into Haley's blue eyes. “My father was killed in the line of duty

  two years ago. I made a promise . . . here I am,” she said and then focused her attention

  on the stage and said no more.

  We all have our reasons Tori thought. She leaned back in her seat and waited for the

  orientation to begin. A few minutes later a tall man in his mid-fifties walked out onto the

  stage and introduced himself as Captain Henry Wills. Captain Mills approached a wooden

  table, sat down a few folders and then turned to face a microphone. “As you all know, we

  have restructured how we are doing things here at the academy,” Captain Mills began to

  speak. “You're class is the first to experience the new restructuring programs, beginning

  with the male and female dorms. In the past, each class cycled through the same format

  of training. However, reports show that change is needed.”

  Tori folded her hands and listened to Captain Wills. She listened with attentive ears

  and found the words he spoke positive rather than negative. However, Tori did notice that

  the Captain was speaking more to the men in the auditorium rather than the women.

  Every so often he glanced toward the female cadets, but not too often. By the time the

  orientation was complete, Tori felt torn. Yes, the new training program did offer many

  positive changes, but . . . more for men rather than women; at least that's how she

  perceived matters. Maybe I should quit and hire a private detective? I may waste many

  years getting nowhere? Maybe trying to become a cop is the wrong answer after all?

  4

  aptain Wills walked behind a neatly organized desk and sat down. “I believe you

  know Detective Lory,” he told Tori in a voice that wasn't pleasant or hostile.

  C Tori saw Detective Lory standing next to a wooden filing cabinet chewing on

  a toothpick. The man was staring at her with hard, angry, eyes. “Yes,” she stated

  standing at an at-ease military style position. Her eyes quickly scanned a medium-sized

  office—an office that belonged to a veteran police officer—and then focused back on

  Detective Lory. “May I ask what this is all about Captain Wills?”

  Captain Wills took a few seconds to examine Tori. “Ms. Whitfield,” he said,

  addressing Tori by her civilian name instead of calling her Cadet Whitfield. “I've been a

  cop for over twenty-five years. In that time I've seen our world become a completely

  different battle ground.” Captain Wills placed his hands together and stared at Tori with

  patient and understanding eyes. “I understand more than most how dangerous and evil

  the world has become.”

  Tori clearly understood what direction Captain Mills was going. She braced herself

  for a fight. “Captain—”

  “Allow me to finish,” Captain Wills instructed Tori, keeping a line of patience on a

  face that resembled a hardened military drill sergeant. “I have a wife and two sons,” he

  continued. “My first son is sixteen and my second son is fourteen. Every night I lay awake

  worrying about what kind of world they are going to have to deal with as adults . . .

  teenagers. I worry about when my wife steps out the front door and goes to the grocery

  store. Will she come back alive? Will a drunk driver or some crack head kill her?” Captain

  Wills face turned very solemn. “I also worry about my cops. I've seen far too many good

  men and women die, Ms. Whitfield . . . men and women who became cops to honestly

  serve. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  Tori glanced at Detective Lory. The ugly man sneered at her. “You're saying I have

  my own agenda that may place lives in danger.”

  Captain Wills nodded, relieved that Tori had dismissed any arguments and

  acknowledged the exact purpose of the meeting. “I'm sorry that your sister is missing, Ms.

  Whitfield. I'm sorry that you were almost killed. That is why I called Detective Lory to this

  meeting. Detective?”

  Detective Lory shoved the toothpick into the front pocket of a gray overcoat. “Before

  I tell you why I'm here, let me tell you this,” he said in a sharp voice. “I served in the Army

  as a military cop. I was nineteen. When I came out of the Army, I became a civilian cop

  and worked my way up the . . . ladder,” he snarled at Tori, “through hard work and

  dedication. I've been shot at, stabbed and even ran over. So you better believe you're not

  dealing with some rookie, lady.”

  “I'm dealing with a jerk,” Tori told Detective Lory in a strong voice.

  Detective Lory shook his head. “I can't stand the sight of you, but the fact is you were

  attacked and almost killed. That means that we're dealing with more than I expected.”

  “Don't play cop now,” Tori snapped. “I spent seven months begging you to do your

  job.”

  “In all fairness,” Captain Wills spoke up for Detective Lory, “there wasn't much

  evidence to help us. Detective Lory reviewed the parking lot security cameras, Ms.

  Whitfield—”

  “Cadet Whitfield,” Tori corrected Captain Wills.

  Captain Wills looked at Detective Lory and continued. “The security cameras,

  unfortunately, were of very little help.”

  “I spotted your sister's SUV leaving the Opry Mills Shopping Center,” Detective Lory

  spoke up, “she never came back. That's why I assumed she ran off with some guy.”

  “But my sister's SUV was found empty and abandoned?” Tori stated in a confused

  voice.

  “Someone drove the SUV back and parked it,” Detective Lory said. “When? What

  time? It's hard to tell. Do you know how many SUVs in the Opry Mills Shopping Center

  parking lot resemble your sister's SUV? Countless.”

  “But surely the security footage would show someone driving the SUV back,” Tori

  insisted. “We have to review every second—”

  “I already did,” Detective Lory snapped. “It was nearly dark when your sister left the

  parking lot. Security cameras are junk at night. Your sister's SUV was parked way in the

  back, lady. At that distance, vehicles, especially at night, are nothing but blurs. Unless

  there's an actual emergency, the security cameras stay on wide focus, scanning a large

  area. Th
e cameras zoom in only when there is a need.”

  Tori forced her mind to think instead of react out of angry, impatient, emotion. “Did

  you at least see my sister's SUV return?”

  “It was dark and raining,” Detective Lory stated. “I saw a blur return, a blur stepped

  out of the SUV and a blur walked away.”

  “Unfortunately,” Captain Wills cut in, “the security cameras you see mounted on the

  outside of shopping centers are not the best. Cameras are mostly used as deterrents.”

  Captain Wills nodded at Detective Lory. “Ms. Cadet Whitfield, Detective Lory followed

  the rules and did everything he could do as a cop. Assassinating his character isn't going

  to bring back your sister . . . and neither is trying to become a cop.” Captain Wills locked

  eyes with Tori and offered a compassionate face. “I understand you're angry and confused

  and scared, but—”

  “A man tried to kill me, Captain Wills.” Tori cut him off in an angry voice. “A man

  wrapped a metal string around my neck and tried to kill me.” Tori leaned back and pointed

  at an ugly, round scar. “The metal string cut into my neck,” she continued, keeping her

  head tilted back. “I'm not here because I have my own personal vendetta. I'm here because

  I want to find my sister and make sure that what happened to me never happens to

  another innocent woman.” Tori lowered her head and braced herself. “I admit that at first

  I wanted to become a cop only to find my sister, but now I know that I want to become a

  cop to protect and help . . . and to fight. Right now I'm very scared and I'm very angry, but

  I know that I'm where I need to be and I'm not backing down.” Tori pointed at the office

  window with a shaky finger. “The man who tried to kill me was never found. He's still out

  there. The only chance I have of surviving is to fight.”

  Captain Wills saw a single tear slip from Tori's eye. But instead of seeing a weak,

  helpless woman, he saw a strong and determined fighter that was willing to stand her

  ground. “Cadet Whitfield, being a cop is entering a man's world. I hate to say it so bluntly,

  but that's the truth. You're going to start off at the bottom and get stepped on every step

  you take. Why? Because you're a woman.” Captain Wills shook his head. “I admire your