by Dawn Edwards
CHAPTER 34
DREW
I was at a job site with most of my crew farther up the Cape, starting a large project on another beautiful home. My phone started to buzz in my back pocket, but I was in the middle of carrying a pile of wood into the back yard, where Joe had questions on a building detail he wanted to go over. A few minutes later my phone buzzed again, and this time it wasn’t just a simple text message, it was an incoming call.
I dug the phone out, still listening to Joe, to see that it was Jose calling and that I also had a missed text message from him. If this kid was bailing again there was going to be hell to pay. Not only from his father, but from me also. I hated that Jessa was left alone. As much as he needed projects at our house to keep his juvenile ass out of jail, I needed him to watch out for Jessa.
‘One sec, yeah?’ I looked up to Joe, ‘Jose you better not be bailing on me.’
‘No, boss,’ he said on the other end of the line.
‘Then what is it?’
‘There’s no one here,’ he told me and my heart stopped.
‘What do you mean?’ I demanded.
‘I’m at the front door that’s usually open, but it’s locked and no one is answering. I’ve knocked and rung the doorbell.’
Jessa was just entering her second trimester but still sometimes she got tired and napped during the day, however, she was never a heavy sleeper and I knew that the ringing of our doorbell would easily wake her up.
‘Go around back,’ I instructed.
‘Ok.’
‘Does she have music playing?’ I asked.
‘No, sir,’ he answered. ‘It’s really quiet, and all the curtains are still closed, I can’t see in.’
‘Try the sliding back doors.’ I was getting impatient. ‘Are you there yet?’
‘Almost,’ he told me. ‘It’s really muddy.’
‘Hurry the fuck up, kid,’ I yelled into the phone, getting a look from Joe. ‘Jose’s at the house, and Jessa’s not answering the door,’ I offered as a way of explanation, causing his eyes to go wide.
‘It’s not locked,’ he said, and I heard it sliding open. ‘Jessa?’ he called out but didn't hear any answer.
‘Look in the bedroom,’ I demanded, walking back to my truck, Joe at my side.
‘Empty, so is the bathroom. I'm heading upstairs,’ the kid said, and I heard his shoes pounding on the floor and him calling out Jessa’s name again, sounding out of breath.
As I reached my truck I turned to Joe. ‘I gotta go.’
He nodded, ‘Of course, what do you need from me?’
‘Just take over…’
‘Not the job…’
‘I don’t know, I'll keep you posted.’
He nodded as I closed the door and started the engine in one quick move. Once the Bluetooth was enabled, I put the truck in reverse. ‘Jose, talk to me.’
‘She’s not upstairs either,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Keep looking, I’m on my way, I’ll be about a half-hour.’
‘Do you want me to stay on the line?’ he asked for clarification.
‘Yes, and keep looking. Is she on the beach, garage, office, backyard, next door?’ I listed off places. ‘Is there a note?’
I heard a door close. ‘She’s not in the garage, and I’ll check the bedroom again.’
Over Bluetooth, Jose's breath was labored through the speakers as he walked me through the house, having checked in the bathroom again, under the bed, behind curtains, in the Audi in the garage. ‘She has half a carrot cut up with pita and hummus on the kitchen counter,’ he told me. ‘Looks like she was making something to eat.’
That made no sense, why would she make a snack and not eat it? She ate anything and everything lately, likely ate half the snack while still preparing it.
‘Um, boss…’ his voice dropped and my stomach sank.
‘What is it?’
‘Um…’
‘Jose!’ I yelled his name.
‘Her ankle monitor is here…’
I rolled that sentence around in my mind a few times. If the monitor is there, so should she be, there was no way to take it off. It was essentially metal covered in soft plastic, that required a key to unlock, and was tamperproof. Likely, the authorities already knew.
‘Yeah?’
‘In two pieces.’
Shit. I pounded my hands on the steering wheel.
‘Stay where you are. Actually, don’t touch anything, walk back outside and sit on the back deck and wait for me. I’m calling the cops…’
‘I gotta go…’
‘Don’t you fucking go anywhere! You call me with any updates, got that?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Fuck, fuck fucking fuck.
I dialed Breton, who I knew was in London, thankfully not currently on a mission.
‘Yo,’ he answered the phone.
‘Did she do a runner again?’
‘W...what?’
‘Breton, don’t fuck with me…’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Jessa…’ I took a deep breath. ‘Did she do another run?’
‘No…’ he said slowly in a low voice. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I have one of my crew’s kids doing some work at the house after school. He just showed up and Jessa’s not there, but her ankle monitor is in two pieces inside the house.’
‘What?’
‘So I ask, did she do another runner?’
‘Fuck no…’ he breathed out. ‘Drew, call the police,’ he shouted.
‘That’s my next call, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.’
‘Drew, I promise you we are on the same page. Where are you?’
‘I’m on my way back to the house, I'm about fifteen or twenty minutes away. I swear I’m going to be arrested for speeding…’
‘Ok, you call the police, I'm going to call Steve to let him know and arrange a flight home.’
He ended the call, and I called 911. ‘911, what is your emergency.’
‘Hi, my name is Drew Cameron, my girl...wife is Jessa Cahill...Cameron. She’s on house confinement at the moment, but she’s not home and my staff found the monitor cut off. It should be emitting a signal. Can you please inform Detective Landry of the Barnstable Police Department, I'm driving back to the house, so I can’t call her.’
‘Sir, this is for emergencies…’
‘This is a fucking emergency, something has happened to her.’
‘Sir…’
‘Will you relay this message to the detective and the police right now, or do I need to involve higher authorities? Because I assure you her father is extremely well-connected…’
‘I will pass on your message to her now…’
I took my exit off the highway and sped through the roads that led to our house, knowing that I could get pulled over at any time, but at least I'd have the attention of the police.
My phone rang as I was pulling on the long stretch of road that would lead to our house; the truck’s screen displayed that it was Steve calling.
‘Drew, what's going on?’ he asked sounding out of breath.
‘I have no idea, I'm just about to pull into the driveway, and I see a police car already there,’ I informed him, pulling into my driveway to find a police officer stopping me.
‘Excuse me, sir, you cannot be here,’ he told me as I rolled down my window.
‘This is my house, and my wife is missing,’ I stated matter-of-factly. I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me from getting to the bottom of this.
The officer looked at me, clearly not sure what to do. ‘Move out of my way so I can go in to talk to detective Landry.’ I stared at him having already seen her car up by my house.
Inside, Jose was seated at the island with one officer, and I saw detective Landry enter from the back door. ‘What’s going on?’ I walked right up to her.
This woman had been a bit of a pain in our ass over the past week that Jessa was confi
ned to the house or otherwise needing to attend appointments. She decided to check in on us at the most inopportune times, and when Jessa needed to attend meetings with lawyers, she made it seem like such a colossal inconvenience to her and the officers.
I laid into her a few days ago when she did a check at two in the morning, and then again five hours later at seven. It was completely unacceptable; Jessa and her family had been more than cooperative, and Abby said that any potential charges were likely to be dropped by the end of the week—however, this was unofficial, and we couldn’t say anything.
Jessa and I both thought it was to get airtime from the news crews and paparazzi that had been camped out until a few days ago, the last finally leaving yesterday.
‘You tell me, Mr. Cameron,’ she looked at me. ‘Where did she go this time?’
I shook my head and looked over at Jose. ‘Are you alright, kid?’
He glared at the officer. ‘They tried to put me in cuffs…’
‘He’s sixteen fucking years old, you can’t talk to him without a parent or legal representation,’ I spit out, only knowing this because he had actually gotten into a bit of trouble lately, and his father Carlos had a field day with the police department with how they handled him.
‘That is why he is sitting here, waiting for one of his parents to answer their phones.’
I walked over to him. ‘Can you talk to me?’ I asked in a low voice.
He looked up to me and nodded, ‘I have nothing to hide. I've told you everything, the food is there.’ He looked across the counter, and I saw Jessa’s phone on the counter within arm’s reach of the knife and container of hummus, a bag of carrots off to the side. ‘And the monitor is there, by the door.’
I followed his line of sight to see the small black monitor in two pieces on the floor by the backdoor, lying next to a pair of industrial bolt cutters.
All the hairs on my body stood on the edge, and I went rigid in the chair I was in before springing to my feet. I looked up to the detective. ‘Those c...cutters…’ I stuttered. ‘I think…no, I know she’s been taken.’
The detective looked over to me and then back to the cutters. ‘Are they yours?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, but I lent them to Lisa Rutter last week.’
She took out her notepad and pen. ‘Lisa Rutter,’ she repeated, and I assumed she was writing the name down. ‘And you know her how?’
I took a deep breath and sat back down next to Jose at the island, ‘She works at the Bar, her father owns it...and she’s my ex-girlfriend,’ I added in a low breath.
The detective looked up to the officer standing in the kitchen watching over Jose. ‘Can you ask for forensics to come fingerprint?’
‘What makes you think Lisa took her?’ the detective asked.
I shook my head and dug my phone out, calling Steve and raising a finger to her. ‘Hey, you’re on speaker,’ I informed him. ‘I’m at our house and there are a few officers and a detective who’s started asking questions. Do you want Abby here with me?’
‘Always,’ he instructed me.
‘But I want them to start looking, I think Lisa took her.’
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. ‘What do you mean, took her?’
‘She asked to borrow bolt cutters last week, so I dropped them by the bar. Jessa knew about it, she saw the text message come in. Now I see the same ones here next to Jessa’s ankle monitor.’
‘There’s also tire tread marks out back,’ the detective offered.
‘And you couldn't lead with that?’ I snapped at her.
‘Drew, I need you to take a breath and calm down,’ Steve encouraged. ‘If you want to say anything, record it. That way Abby is able to know what was said as a matter of record. I’ve already called her. She’s wrapping up a meeting with a client and will be on her way out straight away. Her assistant was going to make the calls to the DA.’
At this, I saw the detective’s eyes go wide. Yeah, bitch, this is much bigger than you.
As the afternoon turned into evening, officers and forensic teams came and went. The Cahills arrived along with Abby, but there was no word or lead on where Jessa might be.
I was a complete mess, beside myself with worry. I had just gotten her back, she was carrying my baby, our baby. We have sacrificed so much, suffered so much to be together, it cannot end, not now, not ever and especially not like this.
I’d been advised not to call Lisa or leave the house to try and find her. It was killing me to stay put. I wanted to go and find them.
It was almost three in the morning before I finally showered and crawled into an empty bed. A bed that less than twenty-four hours ago I was sharing with her, making love to her in. Now there was a giant void next to me and my soul felt hollow without her.
I used to worry about her all the time, but now, with the baby, my anxiety was capable of swallowing me whole. I didn’t know how parents did it. The little bean wasn’t even born yet, still, I loved it and was protective over it in a way that was completely foreign, yet so natural.
Breton would be here in a few hours. If anyone could find her, I knew it would be him.
CHAPTER 35
JESSA
I awoke with a sharp pain in my shoulders, arms, and wrists. Opening my eyes, I saw a dim light hanging from the ceiling a few feet away. I was propped up against a cold metal wall, my hands tied behind my back, legs bound together at my ankles. The room was empty and not all that large, appearing to be a storage locker of sorts. There was no use in trying to struggle against it, all I was doing was chewing up my wrists.
My head hurt, but I had to think. The last thing I remembered was Lisa returning the bolt cutters at the house. I was pretty sure she knocked me out with a chemical, I had no idea how long I was out. There were no windows in the room, no clock, no way to judge the time of day. I was hungry, no surprise there, I always was these days. I was feeling thirsty and knew I’d have to pee soon. I couldn’t even call out as I had a gag over my mouth. I felt so completely helpless at the moment.
I should have tried harder to fight back, thinking back to the few self-defense classes I took at the resort, and of Marcus’s mocking words, ‘A kitten has more fight in it than you do.’
He was making fun of me at the time, from the security of the four walls with padded mats on the floor for our protection. Never thinking that we’d ever be put in a real situation where we might have to use self-defense skills.
I missed him, but from his last email he seemed to be doing well, finishing up school and interviewing for jobs. If I ever got out of here, I still intended to bring him over to help start my business with me. But right now, that was a big if.
I started to tremble, and the tears like a broken faucet wouldn’t stop. My nose began to fill with snot and run which I couldn’t even wipe or blow, making it harder to breathe, and I started to panic. Soon I wouldn’t be able to breathe enough as the gag covering my mouth made it much harder through my mouth.
I looked down to my stomach, willing myself to calm down for the sake of the baby. That set off another level of anxiety. What if the baby was at risk due to the chemical used, my stress, or lack of food? I closed my eyes and concentrated on some deep breathing exercises that I had learned last year at the retreat as a strategy to decompress, meditate and connect to one’s self. At least I could use something from here in this fucked-up situation.
It took a while, or at least it felt as if it did, but I was finally able to calm down enough by concentrating on my breath—inhale, hold, exhale, repeat.
I had to clear my mind of everything else to gain control over my body at the moment. It was the only thing I could control in my present predicament. I calmed as much as I could given the current situation and closed my eyes again, listening carefully. I couldn’t hear anything; no hum, no animals, cars, nothing.
In time, I must have fallen asleep again due to the emotional toll, clearly proving too much for me to handle. I awok
e next to a loud grating sound and artificial light from a small source streaming in through a garage-style door opening. I blinked a few times, lifting my head with much difficulty and a lot of pain due to stiffness. A silhouette walked in, pushing a cart of things I couldn’t make out, before closing the door again. When the person turned on a lamp, I could then make out it was Lisa, taking off a jacket. I watched her every move, scared to death of what she might do next. She unloaded a radio of sorts from the cart and hooked it up to a plug on the other side of the storage locker.
‘Police radio,’ she informed me, seemingly proud of herself. ‘This way I’ll be able to know what’s going on.’
What the actual hell, was she seriously thinking of outrunning the police and taking me along for a joyride?
She pulled a large Home Depot orange mixing bucket that I recognized from the many Drew had in our garage. I sighed, looking down to my belly, my connection to him, growing inside of me. I could only imagine what he was going through right about now, worried out of his ever-loving mind, no doubt.
Lisa walked over to me carrying the bucket and put it down next to me. ‘It’s been a while, thought you might need to piss,’ she said.
What the hell did Drew ever see in this psycho bitch?
Yeah, so what, I could be crass also.
She pulled me up with more force than was needed. ‘Thank-fuck you lost your fat ass, would have made getting you out of your house a lot harder.’
Was she working alone? Did someone from the Taggart’s pay her to do this, and if so, what was their end game?
She pulled my yoga pants down, and I let out a yell as best I could despite the fact that I still had a gag in my mouth. I squeezed my legs together. ‘Oh sweetheart, we both know you’re a whore who spreads those legs to get what you want, to steal what’s mine,’ she snarled, lowering me to sit on the bucket. It was the most degrading experience of my life. At least with the nurse she was a trained professional, and I wasn’t bound like a prized pig ready for a luau.
As I sat down, my body betrayed me and I relieved myself immediately.
I thought about what she said, accusing me of taking Drew from her. This was all about Drew and likely had nothing to do with the Taggarts at all. Relief washed over me as I processed the information. Knowing that the Taggarts didn’t have anything to do with my kidnapping made me somewhat relieved, however, it still didn’t make the situation great by any stretch of the imagination. It was the best-case scenario, but I still didn’t have answers, a way of asking questions, or any way to escape this psycho bitch’s clutches.