The Abduction of Kelsey (20 page)

The man pulled out a small notebook and extracted a photo from it. He held it out for James’ inspection. James took the photo, relieved to see his hand was steady. His heart was suddenly thumping high in his throat. Kelsey stared back at him—not the thin waif of a girl she’d become, but a younger, more robust version, grinning broadly for the camera.

“Kelsey,” he breathed before he realized he’d uttered a sound. He sank into a chair, unable to look away from the image.

“That’s right,” the big man said. “Kelsey Rowan. You used to work together?”

James met the guy’s intense gaze, willing himself to be calm. The man knew nothing. He was just fishing. Who the fuck hired him? He forced himself to hand the photo back to the man.

“Yes. I know she’s been missing for a while.” James hoped his expression conveyed the right amount of concern, without being overly anxious. “I thought the police had stopped the investigation. Who are you working for?”

“The police may be less focused on the case right now, but the file is still active. I’m working for Kelsey’s parents. There are some new leads. Promising leads.”

James sat straighter in the chair and pulled his lips into something approximating a smile. “That’s good news,” he forced himself to say. “So what do you want from me? I’ve been away from the bank for months.”

“So I understand. Cancer, is it?” His gaze was skeptical and James wanted to smack him.

“That’s right. I’m in remission, but thanks for asking.”

“I spoke with your colleagues at the bank. There was a young woman, Jenny Murphy, remember her?

“Of course I remember her,” James snapped. “She was on my team.” A chubby girl, James recalled, never especially pleasant, though she did her job. She and Kelsey had lunch together a lot, mostly at the park.

“She, uh”—the man glanced down at his small notebook and looked up again— “she noted that you seemed to be especially interested in Kelsey. You had Kelsey sit directly across from your desk and Jenny noticed you were often, uh, watching her?”

That fucking cunt.

James forced a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean. Kelsey was a relatively new employee. I had Mark Hammond shift desks so Kelsey could be near her supervisor, in case she had questions or concerns. As to
watching
Kelsey, I have no idea what Jenny is talking about.”

He leaned forward, offering a conspiratorial smile. “Jenny was, you know, a little heavy, in her late twenties and single, a little desperate, perhaps. She might have resented all the attention a pretty young woman, the new girl, if you will, got from the guys in the department.”

The investigator stared at James for a moment and then slowly nodded. “Yes, all right. I see.” He scribbled something in his little notebook, and James wanted to grab the thing and hurl it across the porch.

Instead, he started to rise from his chair. “Sorry I can’t help you. Now if there’s nothing—”

The investigator made no move to rise. “I see you’re wearing a wedding ring. I didn’t know you had married.” The man lifted his eyebrows in question.

James covered his hand, his fingers closing over the ring. He felt himself flushing. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “I wasn’t aware my marital status was any of your business.”

“You said you were packing?” the man continued, not missing a beat.

“Yes. Yes, I’m—I’m going on a trip.”

“With your wife?”

James stood. “We’re done here, Mr. Johnson, or whatever your name is. Unless you have a warrant or something—”

The man stood as well. “A warrant?” he said musingly. “Think I need one?”

“This is private property,” James said angrily. He took a step toward the man.

“No problem. I’ll just stop by later. Maybe chat with your wife—”

“Yeah, okay. You do that. Come by this afternoon.”
We’ll be long gone, you son of a bitch.

“All right then.” The man extended a big hand and James had no choice but to take it. He watched as the man got into his car, waiting by the screen door until the bastard drove out of sight.

His heart was still beating too fast, and he felt like he was going to throw up. He sank into the porch chair and saw that, along with his business card, the man had left the snapshot of Kelsey. James reached for it and stared down at the image. It wasn’t one he’d seen before. She was probably in her late teens in the shot, perhaps on a family vacation. The picture captured just her head and shoulders, though from the thin blue straps on her sun-burnt shoulders, he guessed she was wearing a bathing suit. Her face was tan, the apples of her cheek pink, her thick auburn hair tousled and windblown, her lovely green eyes glowing with happiness.

Again he found himself wondering when he had last heard her joyous, full-throated laugh, or seen her smile. When had the color faded from her cheeks, and the sparkle from her eyes? Where had the happy, sassy, funny girl he used to know and admire disappeared to?

She’s gone,
that small, cold voice inside his head replied.
You killed her.

Tears splattered down onto the photo of the lost girl. James felt something crack inside his heart, the pieces shattering like shards of cold, sharp glass in his chest. He dropped his head into his hands with an anguished cry as Kelsey’s smiling image fell silently to the floor.

Kelsey heard the soft metallic sound of the closet latch sliding back and she opened her eyes. She knew she was expected to lift herself into a kneeling position, hands resting on her knees, head bowed in wifely submission, but she only curled tighter into herself.

The fog that had surrounded her all these months had been burned away with James’ horrifying pronouncement that they would be starting a family. It was as if she’d been blinded by James’ constant reign of terror, but now, suddenly, she could see again, and there was no going back. There was no way she could return to that quiet but dark and dangerous place, even if her life depended on it. Other potential lives now hung in the balance. She would rather die than go along with his monstrous plans.

Earlier she had heard James stomping around, pulling drawers open and slamming them closed. No doubt he expected her to beg to be let out, but she wasn’t going to beg for anything—not anymore. She lay on the hard wood in silence, waiting for the closet door to open, steeling herself for the next onslaught of abuse.

Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Why had he unlocked the door if he didn’t plan to let her out?

Finally, Kelsey sat up, wincing as her sore bottom brushed the hard closet floor. How long had he left her there this time? She was hungry, but then, she was always hungry. It had definitely been overnight, judging by the pressure in her bladder.

What the hell was taking James so long to open the fucking door? She really had to pee. Her bladder was aching, and the prospect of being let out made it that much worse as she imagined the relief she would feel when she sat on the toilet.

Hurry up, you bastard.

She thought she heard the sound of the front door clicking shut, and then the rumble of a car engine, which faded slowly away. What was going on?

“James?” she ventured finally.

Nothing.

She moved in the dark, feeling for the door, closing her hand over the knob. Did she dare?

She turned it slowly, her heart beating fast. Was he standing on the other side, waiting for just such impertinence? Was he watching the knob turn? Was this just another trap?

She dropped her hand, her courage momentarily failing her. What game was he playing?

Finally, her bladder spurring her on, she reached for the knob again, listening hard for the slightest sound. All she could hear was the beating of her own heart, an insistent
boom, boom, boom
in her chest.

Slowly, slowly, she pushed at the door, freezing for a moment as the hinges creaked, the sound sharp as a knife. “James?” she called softly.

Nothing.

She pushed the door wider, her ears pricked. She squinted against the sudden light that assailed her, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the glare. The sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window, its angle telling her it was late morning.

Where was James?

Her eyes swept the room. It was empty, everything packed. “James?” she called again, louder this time. If he was there, she’d just as soon face him, damn it. She crawled into the room and pushed herself slowly to her feet. He must have wanted her to come out of the closet, she reasoned, or why had he unlatched it? Again she pondered what game he was playing. How was she supposed to figure out the rules?

Her bladder directed her next moves, and she half-danced, half skipped toward the bathroom, clutching at herself the way a child might as she made her way to the toilet. She sighed with relief as she peed, voiding as quickly as she could, certain James would appear at any second.

She finished and wiped herself. Flushing, she jumped up from the toilet and went to the sink, avoiding her image as she always did as she splashed water on her face and reached for a towel. Then, though she knew she shouldn’t, she turned around and twisted back to see the damage from the spanking. Her bottom was mottled with dark red and purple bruises and she winced at the sight.

Don’t forget it,
she told herself.
Don’t float away again. Stay conscious. Stay focused. Fight!

Resolved, she turned away from the image and ventured back into the bedroom, still not sure how she would react when she saw him. Should she try to play his game? Should she drop to her knees, beg his forgiveness and promise to be a good girl?

I can’t. I can’t do it. Not again. I won’t.

Steeling herself, she entered the living room, girding herself to face her tormentor.

The room was empty.

She walked into the kitchen, her heart beating so fast she thought she might pass out.

He wasn’t there.

She opened a drawer, looking for something sharp to use as a weapon. James had kept the knives hidden ever since she’d slashed him all those months ago. But a fork would work too. She could stab it into his eye, and then make a run for it.

She grabbed a fork and returned to the living room. She peered through the front window. She couldn’t see his car, but that didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t there.

She ran into the bedroom and yanked open a drawer, searching for something to wear. The drawers were empty. She went into the bathroom and rummaged in the linen closet, pulling down one of James’ old T-shirts that she used as a rag when cleaning. It was better than nothing, and she pulled it over her head. In the mudroom she found an old pair of flip flops, and she slid her feet into them. There was a jacket hanging on the peg, and she put this on as well. She would make her way to the main road and flag someone down.

Then she heard it—the sound of a car pulling up to the house. He was back. She had to get out! But how? There was only one door to the cabin, and he was right outside.

She heard the car door open and slam, and then heavy footsteps moving inexorably toward the screen door. She heard it swing open.

Grabbing the fork, she raced to the wall beside the door. She would leap from behind the open door and catch him unaware. She would stab him in the face. She would kick him as hard as she could in the balls and then make a run for it.

The door opened, hiding her for the moment behind it. She could hear him walking into the room. She counted to three as she gathered her courage. With the fork clutched in her fist, she pushed the door and leaped out from behind it.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

Kelsey froze in confusion, the fork falling from her hand to the floor. Acting off pure instinct, she lunged headlong into the intruder’s massive chest.

She fell heavily on top of someone who wasn’t James as the two of them hit the floor. The man was bigger, burlier, his hair a dark blond, his eyes a brilliant blue. He sat up and then hoisted himself upright, lifting Kelsey as he stood.

“Sorry I startled you. You okay?” he said as he took a step back. Then he peered at her, his eyes widening. “Oh my god,” he said softly. “You’re Kelsey, aren’t you? Kelsey Rowan. You’re skin and bones. And those bruises and welts…” His face crumpled with pity. “Jesus Christ, what did that bastard do to you?”

Kelsey stared back at the man, her mouth working, though no sound issued. The world tilted as her knees buckled beneath her. Strong arms caught her as she fell and then the world went black.

When Kelsey opened her eyes, at first she had no idea where she was, or what was happening. As she came more to herself, she realized she was in the living room, lying on the sofa. She sat up abruptly, pushing through the wave of dizziness that assailed her. James would punish her if he found her on the furniture without permission. She started to roll to the ground when a deep voice that was not James’ stopped her.

“Hey there. You passed out for a minute. I was getting worried. I was about to call 9-1-1.” The blond man she’d barreled into was sitting on the chair catty-corner to the sofa. “You okay?”

Kelsey nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she was or not.

“I’m really sorry I scared you so bad,” the stranger continued. “I had to come back, though. I didn’t buy Bennett’s story, but he pretty much threw me off the premises. It suddenly occurred to me that he said come to back this afternoon because he didn’t plan on being here. When I saw that his car was gone, I was afraid I’d come too late. My god, if I’d known
you
were here, right here in the cabin, I would have knocked him out cold and broken the door down.”

“What’s happening?” Kelsey said, her mind still moving slowly. “Where’s James? Who are you?” She wrapped her arms around her torso, glad she was at least wearing the T-shirt and jacket, but keenly aware of her nakedness beneath it. She tucked her legs underneath her body and looked at the man.

He started to extend his hand, apparently thought better of it and dropped it into his lap. “I’m Michael Johansen. I’m a private investigator. Your parents hired me to find you. I’ve been on the case for a week or so. Something about Bennett just didn’t sit right with me, especially after I talked to him this morning.”