The Silencer: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (24 page)

He could see the fear plastered across the children’s faces. It pleasured him to intimidate them. He was quite good at it, too.

“If you’re bad, then I won’t feed you. And you two little pigs will go to bed hungry,” he laughed for a moment. “But maybe that won’t be so bad. Chase, you could stand to lose a few pounds,” he looked at them. “And maybe you too, Bryce.”

The man stood up and walked away from the closet door. Both boys were relieved that he was leaving them alone for a while. As much as the dark closet scared them, he was scarier. They didn’t like it when the man talked to them. He was usually mean and said nasty things that they didn’t like to hear. It made them afraid of him. The boys stayed quiet in the closet, in fear of not being fed—or worse, beaten by the man. They’d been with him long enough to know that he wasn’t kidding. If he said no food, that meant no food. There were many times where the boys didn’t eat for days, even though they hadn’t been bad. When he would finally feed them, he said he’d forgotten all about feeding them and offered them bologna and stale chips. Sometimes they were lucking enough to get unsweetened Kool-Aid, but usually it was luke-warm tap water. The boys were homesick.

Chapter 8

With everything going on at home, Brooke was scared. She realized the severity of everything as days, then weeks passed where they weren’t allowed to leave the Marshall Compound. That’s what the girls had taken to calling their home since the police watched them like hawks. Brooke wasn’t afraid of being kidnapped, though. But because she might be in trouble. She was terrified to tell anyone her secret. If they found out, she might be in a lot of trouble—by the police. She didn’t know what to do or who to tell. It was a lot of pressure on the little girl’s shoulders.

After thinking about all that had happened, she began to worry that she would be in trouble for telling her pen pal where they lived. Parents, teachers—everyone—always told them to never give a stranger any of their private information, and Brooke had broken that golden rule. Not only did she give her pen pal their address, but she used to meet him sometimes at her old apartment mailboxes. He seemed nice, she thought; he was always really sweet towards her. Every now and then, he’d even bring her a small gift. Sometimes it would be a little ring or he’d give her money. Usually just change, but it was still neat to get presents from him.

When their family moved to the country, he told her that she could always write him letters at her old address. She could use one of the apartment mailboxes to send them too. They agreed on apartment 113F. That apartment was in the building next to theirs, but that’s where he said to send them. He assured her that he’d get them. She happily obliged. It was nice having someone to share all of her secrets with. An adult who, for once, wouldn’t rat her out to her parents and tell them everything she said. He always told her that she could tell him anything. He’d never tell a secret; they even did a secret handshake as their vow to keep things private between them.

Brooke often wrote him, telling him about their new house, the new animals, and their new life. She poured her heart out to him about everything. Knowing that he would never tell, she confided in him about how much trouble her baby brothers were. She went on and on about how annoying they were and how they stole all the attention away from her. Brooke also professed how much she missed being the baby. When she was the baby of the family, everyone paid attention to her and she got anything she wanted. Not anymore, though; her brothers came first now.

Her secret pen pal eventually quit writing her letters back since she didn’t get to see him at the mailboxes anymore. And she’d had a couple of different teachers since she left kindergarten so he didn’t know how to get them to her anymore. She didn’t mind, though, she still had the old ones he’d given to her. They were stashed away in her secret box. It was hidden behind all of her stuffed animals; no one ever saw it. She’d made the box just for his letters out of an old shoe box that she took out of the trash. It was like her own personal mailbox that was filled with letters from him.

Even though she’s scared, she decides to tell one of the nice lady police officers who sometimes watches their house. She’s friendly enough that Brooke felt as though she could trust her with her secret.

“Officer Kim?” Brooke said as she approached her.

“Hello, Brooke! How are you today?” she asked her.

“Kind of not good,” she said as she played with her shoe strings.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I need to talk to someone,” she looked at Officer Kim. “Like you.”

“About what, honey?”

“I’m afraid to tell anyone. I don’t want to be in trouble,” the little girl confessed.

“In trouble for what? Did you do something bad?” she probed.

“I’m not sure. That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she explained.

“Brooke, you can speak to me about anything. We’re friends right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be in trouble if I tell you this.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what your problem is,” she tried to convince the little girl.

She could tell that Brooke wasn’t really sure if she wanted to say or not.

“Why don’t we play a game?” the Officer suggested. “You tell me what’s wrong and we’ll pretend that you’re talking about a friend.”

Brooke thought about it for a minute. She nodded her head, “I like that game.”

“Okay, so why don’t you tell me about your friend,” Officer Kim encouraged her.

“My friend had this secret pen pal that she’d started writing letters to. It was a class project that my kindergarten teacher started. We had to get the name and address of a relative or friend of the family,” she hesitated to tell more.

“And what did your friend do?”

“Well, she wasn’t the best at giving her parents letters from her teacher, but her dad already knew about it. My friend’s dad, Keith—I mean, Nick—emailed the teacher and told her a friend of his that she could write to.”

“And?” she coached the girl to continue.

“My friend started writing the person that was supposed to be her pen pal, and eventually he began seeing her. In secret. It was their secret…”

“Who said it had to be secret?” the officer asked.

“He did; her pen pal. He said they had to keep everything secret so no one knew that she knew who her pen pal was.”

“Ah, okay. Go on.”

“My friend told him all kinds of things. Practically everything you could think of,” she said.

“Like what kind of things?”

“Um, she told him where they lived, what kind of animals they had, what they did all day, what her parents did…and,” she stopped. Her head hung low in shame, “she said she didn’t like her little brothers.”

“What did the pen pal say?”

“He promised me, I mean her, that he would take the boys away because he wanted her to be happy.”

“Because she didn’t like her little brothers?”

“Yeah,” Brooke said.

“Why didn’t your friend like your, I mean her, little brothers?”

“Because she was the baby until they came along and wrecked everything.”

Officer Kim nodded her head, “Keep going.”

“But one day my friend made him mad. She forgot to tell the man that she loved him. He got angry that she loved her animals more than him, and he didn’t like that.”

“And how long did your friend talk to this man?”

“All of kindergarten until now,” she admitted.

“Brooke, I need to make sure I’ve got this right. You were writing a secret pen pal—that your dad appointed for you—and you’ve been keeping him updated on everything in your lives for the last few years?”

She nodded her head, “Yeah. Am I going to be in trouble?” she asked, her eyes pleading with the officer.

“No, Brooke. What you just told me was very courageous and I’m proud of you. Do you still have all of those old letters he wrote to you?”

“Yeah, they’re hidden in my room. Behind all of my stuffed animals.”

“Can I take a look at them?” the officer asked.

“Yeah, but you won’t say that I gave them to you, will you?”

“It’s our secret Brooke, but if they can help us find out who’s been doing all of this, I’ll need to tell my boss.”

“Who’s your boss? It’s not my dad is it?”

She laughed, “Oh no. Detective Roderick is my boss. Will you go get me those letters?”

“Yeah, I’ll come back in a few minutes,” she told her.

Brooke headed into the house, up to her room to retrieve the letters for the officer. She was glad she’d told Officer Kim; it made her feel better.

§

Sitting in her patrol car outside the Marshall’s house, Officer Kimberly Clark began flipping through the letters that she’d obtained from Brooke. She’s slowly horrified by what she’s seen but began growing hopeful. This was the first real lead they had. The little girl wasn’t kidding when she said she told the man everything. Judging by his letters, he really did know everything. He knew what her grades were like, who her friends were, what problems she was having with them, and problems she was had at home. And just as she’d said, the mention of him being mad about her loving the animals more than him. She vaguely remembered Mr. Marshall telling them about the family’s dog being slaughtered on the front porch. At least, that’s what she thought she remembered.

Going on a hunch, she decided to take the letters to the police station for analysis. It would be better to have them analyzed before bringing them to the attention of the higher-ups. There was still the possibility that the little girl was paranoid and the letters meant nothing. When she got to the station, she discretely slipped them to the analysis department. The last thing she wanted was for senior detective Roderick to find out that she was working with a child if it turned out to be nothing. If it did, however, prove to be something, she might be promoted. It would take several days for the results to come back. Until then she sat on her secret, waiting for the results.

Thursday, later that week, Officer Clark received the results from the analysis. She was nervous to open them; it could be nothing, or her future would be forever changed if she were the one to crack the case. Anxious, she opened them as her anticipation and curiosity continued to grow. She was amazed to see that the fingerprints matched one set in particular that was in the system multiple times. The fingerprints on the letters matched the ones acquired from Ashley’s cell phone when Chase was taken off of his bike, and it had a hit in the system. Excited about her findings, she called Detective Roderick and asked him to meet her at the Marshall’s house. She had groundbreaking evidence about their case.

Officer Clark waited in her car, in front of the Marshall’s house, for the senior detective to arrive. She was giddy as she thought about how her findings would help her career. Brooke noticed her cruiser parked directly in front of the house, instead of at the edge of the property as it usually was. Curious, she walked out to the car to see why she was there.

“Hi, Brooke!” Officer Kim Clark greeted the girl.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” she whispered into the car window.

“Don’t be alarmed, but detective Roderick is on his way over here. We’re going to speak with your parents,” she explained.

“Is he the fat guy? Your boss?”

Kim nodded her head. “He is, but let’s not say that in front of him. It’s not very nice.”

“Why is he coming here? You’re not going to tell our secret, are you?” her face twisted with concern.

“Actually, Brooke, I’m not going to lie to you. We are going to talk about that secret. I think…”

“No!” Brooke shouted. “You can’t do that! I’m going to be in trouble. You promised it was our secret.”

“Brooke, you don’t understand. I have to tell. It’s going to help us find out who took your brothers.”

“How?”

“You’ll understand,” she said, glancing at the end of the driveway. “When he gets here, I’ll ask if you and your sister can be present when we talk. Okay?”

“Okay, but…” Brooke’s eyes widened in fear as she saw the dark sedan pulling into the driveway that led to the house. “He’s here!”

Officer Kim Clark looked and, sure enough, he was driving up to the house. Showtime! She thought to herself.

“Come on, Brooke,” she opened her car door. “Let’s go up and meet him.”

§