Disappearance (25 page)

I remember leaving there as soon as I could. I was actually a bit surprised they let me go. Deputies in the movies always have a sneaking suspicion of the boyfriend/husband. He must have been able to tell I'm not a good actor and I clearly wasn't faking it.

I drove everywhere I could, covering every back road and shady street corner looking for anything suspicious. What I was doing seemed pretty pointless because I was going on almost no information. I didn't see one black car, only a couple black SUV's and black mini-vans. I almost stopped them but my better judgment told me that it wasn't a car so there's no way it could be Abby's kidnapper.

That's when I got the call. It was in the afternoon around two o'clock. It wasn't from the deputy, but from Abby's phone. I pulled the car to the side of the road and picked up. It was her, my sweet and dearest Abby. She only had time to say two words.

"Re..ser...voir. A...lone."

It was a struggle for her to say anything. I shouted back her name but she didn't answer. I looked down at my phone, "Call Ended."

The reservoir is near where Abby grew up. It's a beautiful area about thirty minutes south from our current home. During the summer we go there sometimes to picnic and spend the day. There's one spot in particular she takes me to that's quite beautiful. It's hard to get to because it's deep in the wilderness and there isn't a road taking you all the way there. Abby has rocks and other notable objects to keep from getting lost.

The memories keep coming like I'm re-living what happened...

I try calling her back but she doesn't answer. Hearing her voice has given me a shot of adrenaline; she's alive. It makes sense for me to go to the reservoir but what does alone mean? Does that mean she's alone, or does it mean I need to come alone? I try calling her again. "Come on Abby, pick up!" She doesn't answer, though. I have to assume this means to come alone, so I start driving as fast as I can. I drive around ninety miles per hour on the highway and, fortunately again, I don't pass any police cars. It's the most intense hour of driving I've ever done.

When I make it to the reservoir, I drive by a small bait and tackle shop. Time is critical but I need some kind of protection. When I enter the store, I see it's mostly various fishing equipment. Tiny fishhooks are not my idea of protection. Right when I give up and am about to leave the store, I see an ax beside the door. At first I think it isn't for sale, but then I pick it up and see a price tag of $19.99, so I run to the front desk to buy it. I pay with cash because I don't want the police knowing I just bought an ax, especially since I didn't tell them about my phone call from Abby.

Why haven't I called the police yet? I'm really not sure, but something inside me feels like if I don't come alone he'll kill her.

When I get to the reservoir, there's nobody around. In the summer there's always lots of people out, but it's the middle of a weekday in late fall. I go through back roads for about fifteen minutes; I have the route memorized.

The entrance to Abby's place is hard to spot, but after you find it it's easier to navigate once inside. Despite not being an official road, you can drive part of the way. Even my little Cavalier can handle this off-road path, although on a normal day I probably wouldn't go out here if it were raining.

Once I find the entrance, I don't look back because I know there aren't any cars or humans for at least a mile. The path is just as I remember. Trees on each side, the leaves are starting to turn colors with the fall season. The path gets darker and darker the farther you go in. After a few minutes, I reach the end of the trail section where you can travel by car. There's a little area where you can make a U-turn out, which always made me wonder if this trail was somehow human built at some point. The trail looks natural, but it seems odd that it perfectly fits a car.

I stop and turn the car off, then reach for my ax. I take the $19.99 price tag off, which is my way of procrastinating for what's about to come. I'm not even sure if Abby is here, but something deep inside me believes she is.

I take a deep breath and think for one last minute if I should call the police. I look at my cell phone, which still has one bar signal. I think about how long it would take them to get out here and if I would be able to describe where to find me. I'm no hero and would love for the police to be here. The location, I think, is ultimately what makes me not call. I'm lousy with directions, and even worse at giving them. By the time I explain how to get here, Abby could very well be dead. No, I won't call, but I'll keep my phone in my pocket in case I get in a pinch. Maybe the police can find me through the GPS on my phone, not that it will do me any good if I'm dead when they get here.

I get out of the car, not shutting the door all the way because I want to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Abby's place is a pretty far walk, but it's a beautiful little area carved out in the woods. It's near a creek where you can listen to the sounds of the water flowing over the rocks. It's shaded, but has a little opening where you can get some sun if you want. If you were the type of person interested in living in the middle of the woods, this would be the spot.

After twenty minutes of following the trail, I finally get there. As soon as I do, I know something isn't right. Abby's place no longer looks anything related to the place that I know. In the center, where we usually lay a blanket down and have a picnic, there appears to be a huge hole. The ground around it has mounds and mounds of dirt.

All of a sudden I'm terrified. I get my ax and hold it with my best baseball grip. I look around but don't see anyone. I feel like at any moment someone is going to come up behind me and club me when my back is turned. I do a 360-degree turn to see if they're behind me, and when I don't see anyone I run to the hole and look down.

What I see are my most terrified thoughts coming true; Abby is lying at the bottom. The hole is around twenty feet deep. It must have taken weeks, if not months to dig up - a real lunatic did this.

"Abby!" I shout. She's curled up in the fetal position. It's hard to see, but I think I see her move.

"Abby, can you hear me? It's Andrew."

Still no response, then I remember our brief phone conversation where I could barely understand her... "Re..ser...voir. A...lone."

She doesn't speak, but what she does next, I find quite peculiar. Slowly, she moves her arm up and points a finger at me. Why is she pointing at me?

By the time I make the connection that she isn't pointing at me but at what's behind me, it's too late. I feel a hand against my back, pushing me into the hole. In that split second, as I'm falling forward, instinct takes over and I turn my body around. With my left hand I make a desperate attempt at grabbing hold of whatever I can. By sheer luck, I grab the shirt of the kidnapper -- the kidnapper who I now know to be Zach Jones. He's dressed in all black, and the snarl on his face fills me with rage. As soon as I get a firm grasp of his shirt, I pull him down with me. His snarl turns to shock. He does everything he can to keep his balance, but his size and strength aren't enough. It's too late for both of us. We both go tumbling down into the hole, and the next thing I remember is being in a hospital bed hearing Nurse Jackie's footsteps.

"Oh, Andrew. That's horrible," my mother says as she wipes tears from her eyes. My father, who rarely shows emotion, is even fighting back tears. Before I have a chance to say anything, Nurse Jackie comes in.

"Hey, so sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know there will be an officer coming in shortly to speak with you. I did everything I could to prevent it. I told them you weren't in good enough shape to be interrogated at the moment, but they insisted it was urgent."

"It's OK," I tell her. At this moment, I've never liked Jackie more. Just based on her expression I can tell she's on my side and looking after me. "I'd rather talk now and get it over with. Nurse Jackie, go ahead and let the officer know I'm ready whenever they are."

"Sure thing, hon."

As she leaves, I scramble my brain to think of anything I need to tell my parents. I imagine it won't be long before the officer is here to see me.

"Mom, dad, don't tell anyone what I just told you. Let me be the one who tells people what happened."

"Sure, Andrew. Of course," my mother says.

Why do I want to keep it secret? I can't think of a good reason why I should, other than I naturally tend to keep things to myself. I suppose it doesn't really matter if they know the details. They found me and they know I didn't do it. Since I was found they must already know about the hole and Abby's secret spot. Now that I think about it, how did they find me? I didn't tell anyone where I went, and there's no way anyone could just stumble on Abby's place.

I imagine this officer as a real dick -- someone who doesn't take shit from anyone and yells and gets in your face. I hope he'll go easy on me because I've just been in a coma, but the man I'm envisioning would do nothing of the sort.

There's a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, so sorry to interrupt. I'm Deputy Vogul."

I look up to inspect what I'm up against and see Deputy Vogul is... a woman. OK, not the big macho deputy I was imagining but that doesn't mean she's not about to make my life miserable.

"Hi there, are you Andrew's parents?" My parents nod. "What a tragic thing that's happened. I want you to know you have my deepest sympathy. I can't imagine what you must be going through."

"Oh, well thank you," my mother says.

"I hate to do this, but I need a couple minutes with your son. The media is going nuts over this. I just need to ask Andrew a few quick questions so I can get these vultures to go away. I promise I'll make it as brief as possible. We both know Andrew's gone through a lot." Deputy Vogul's attention turns toward me. "Is that OK with you Andrew? Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure, of course," I say but don't really mean. Deputy Vogul seems nice on the outside, but let's see what she's really like when it's just her and me with the door shut.

She walks my parents out with a big smile on her face, and closes the door behind them.

"Andrew. Andrew. Andrew. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I say.

"I know it's just awful, Andrew. Have you had a chance to see your wife yet?"

"No not yet."

"Oh, I do apologize. I hope she's all right. I know you're probably exhausted so I'll get straight to it. What can you tell me about that day? Did you speak with the kidnapper?"

"No."

"Then how did you know where to go?"

As friendly as Deputy Vogul seems to be, I want to tell her as little as possible. Abby's phone call is something I know I can't lie about, though. At the very least, police are able to track and see she called me. They may even have a tape of the recording.

"She called me and told me where she was. It's somewhere her and I go frequently when we want to get away."

"I see, and what happened when you got there?" I'm glad she doesn't ask why I didn't call the police first.

"She was in a huge hole. The kidnapper came from behind and pushed me into it, then I grabbed him as I was falling and pulled him in with me."

Deputy Vogul, surprised by my answer, pauses and thinks before asking her next question.

"So, let me get this straight. The kidnapper pushed you, and then you grabbed him. Then, you both fell into a hole, and then you don't remember anything after that. Is that what you're telling me happened?"

"Yes," I say. "That IS what happened."

"Interesting story, Andrew. Very interesting. There's just one little problem, though. There weren't three people in the hole when we got there. Only one person, your wife."

"Wait, what?" I say with disbelief. "That can't be. I'm not lying to you. That's what happened."

She proceeds cautiously, "Andrew, that may be what you think happened. I've seen it before; traumatic circumstances can play strange tricks on the memory. There's no way your story can be true, though. You were sitting by a tree when we got there."

"Sitting by a tree? That can't be. I remember falling. Falling down that hole with the kidnapper falling down with me."

"Did the kidnapper have any marks on him? Any scratches or injuries?" she asks.

"Well, I didn't really have a lot of time to look at him. It happened so fast. The last thing I remember is hitting the ground."

"Do you remember what he looked like?" she asks.

I only saw him for a second, but I remember what he looks like quite well. I know he has black hair, stands around 5'10", scrawny guy. I remember he was very hairy, his arms and legs were covered in thick, black hair. How do I know so much about what he looks like?

"I... uh... don't remember anything." Why do I have to be such a terrible liar? I can tell she doesn't believe me.

"Interesting, Andrew. Very interesting," says Deputy Vogul. "I'm sorry again though, Andrew. I think you remember more about what he looked like than that. Why aren't you telling me the truth? I'm here to help you."

"I'm not lying," I shout. "I was there and this is what I remember happening. Why don't you believe that?"

In a triumphant manner, Deputy Vogul pulls out a set of pictures from a binder she's holding. My jaw hits the floor.

Chapter 23

The first picture Deputy Vogul shows me is an image of me lying up against a tree. That isn't what has me in disbelief. The shocking part is that in my right hand I'm holding the ax I bought - only it's covered in blood. In fact, my shirt is splattered with blood also. I try to have some sort of response, but nothing comes out. Deputy Vogul breaks the silence.

"That was where we found you, Andrew. This is where we found Mr. Jones, Abby's kidnapper." She places another picture in front of me. The picture is of the kidnapper, at least from what I can tell. His body is completely mutilated from what looks like several crushing blows from an ax.