The Six: Complete Series (27 page)

As much as he wanted to stay strong and aggressive, Eduardo couldn’t help the tears that burrowed in his chest. “Please. They’ll kill my family.”

The lawyer pressed the scissors in even harder. “I’m sorry but I can’t be thinking about you right now. This is my only chance. I have to...”

“You don’t have to do anything. Please, just don’t do this.”

He sighed but he didn’t let up. “Sorry I can’t. Open the doors.”

If he opened the doors, the lawyer would be gone. If he didn’t, then the lawyer would kill him and open the doors himself. Eduardo looked up at the blinking light and prayed there was a compassionate soul behind it who would stop this. “David,” he said, “please. If you’re there...do something.”

Hannah pulled the car up in front of an understated but beautiful ranch house on the corner of an elegant suburban street. It was the kind of house she’d always imagined raising her three kids and two dogs in as a kid. There were apples trees and playing children within eyeshot and not an ambulance or a train whistle to be heard. When they got married and settled down, this was where they needed to go.

It had been hard, but she’d been able to track down Dennis’ house. She recognized it from the news. Even after all this, the lawn was still meticulously trimmed and the flowers bloomed in their orange beauty.

“This is it?” Kyle asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. You’re coming with me, right?”

He squeezed her hand. “Of course. I’m not going to make you do this by yourself.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly as grabbed the small sheet of questions she’d prepared out of her pocket. She assumed Mrs. DiMarco was exhausted by the sheer amount of questions asked of her so Hannah made sure these were to the point so they could get the ball going on her theory.

“It’ll be fine. You’re trying to help her find her husband. How can she turn that down?”

Hannah still held her breath. It didn’t matter how much he tried to reassure her, this was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done and she was terrified of making an already devastated woman more upset. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s just do it and get it over with.”

Kyle didn’t say another word but bounded out of the car and opened her door. He put out his hand and helped her out of the front seat and didn’t let go as they walked towards the house. All that kept her from running back to the car were his fingers wrapped around hers.

Their footsteps mixed with the gentle hum of a lawnmower and the chirp of songbirds on the quiet street. They turned down the pebbled-lined pathway from the gate to the front door. As she stood at their stoop, Hannah paused. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” she said. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to us?”

Kyle shook his head. “If you’re right, then this is good news. She needs some hope right now.”

Even so, she didn’t have the courage to knock on the door. Kyle didn’t have to ask. He raised his fist and knocked.

The noise echoed bluntly around them. There was no scuffling of feet to get to the front door and why should there be? “Try again,” she said.

Kyle knocked again. And again there was no attempt at answering.

“We should go,” she said as she pulled at his sleeve.

Kyle shook his head. “No,” he said. “We need to talk to her.”

Her heart beat fast. In the hard light of day, this seemed like an idiot’s errand. Why would this heartbroken woman want to talk to two random people who walked up to her door. What they would say to her was insane.

He knocked on the door again. “Mrs. DiMarco? Please, we’re not press. We think we have news about your husband. Good news.”

Behind the door there was the scuffling of hesitant footsteps.

Hannah couldn’t contain herself anymore. “We know he didn’t do it. I mean that he didn’t want to do it. Please just let us talk to you for a minute.”

The footsteps grew closer and there was the crunch of a key going into the lock. As the door opened they saw the tired gaunt face of a woman who had been trapped in her home alone with a baby for weeks. “I have my phone. If you’re lying to me...” Her distrustful eyes said everything. They were probably the tenth people trying to make their way into her home with the promise of good news.

“We’re not,” Kyle said. “Hannah lost someone, too. She thinks she knows what’s going on.”

Grace DiMarco looked Hannah up and down and slowly pulled the door open. “Just a few minutes,” she said.

“Of course,” Kyle said.

They walked inside the meticulously cleaned home. It smelled of baby wipes and Febreze. Grace was dressed in yoga pants and an oversized Giants sweatshirt that hung far past her hips.

She walked to the dark living room, a byproduct of having every curtain shut. The TV was on quietly, showing a perky middle-aged woman dice a lemon in preparation for a roasted chicken dish. Hannah followed closely behind Kyle who seemed energized with the news for Grace. She held his hand like an obedient child and sat next to him on the cushy leather coach.

Grace sat across from them in an oversized lounge chair that presumably belonged to her husband. The sleeves of her sweatshirt were pulled up past her hands and she gripped them in a fist. “What is it?” she asked.

“Hannah?” Kyle said.

She bolted up and grabbed the bag that contained all her research. First she pulled out the letter and began the story about Lila. She explained Lila’s backstory and how she had gone missing for almost two weeks before she showed up in the coffee house. She spoke about Lila’s strange behavior leading up to the moment that Hannah found her.

“She was lying on the floor so peacefully, like she was sleeping. There was this bag behind her, this black bag that someone had given her. The police found out it had a bomb in it. Lila would never do something like that, I knew it the moment they told me about it. And then I found this near her body.”

Hannah pulled out the letter and handed it to Grace.

As she poured over the letter, Grace’s eyes grew wide and tears started to well up. “Oh my god,” she said.

“I know,” Hannah said. “And I think that’s what happened with Dennis. He would never leave you voluntarily.”

“Never,” she said.

“And he’s not violent.”

“So gentle.”

Hannah got up from her seat, sat on the arm of the chair and embraced the tearful Grace. “I think there are others. They’re making them do these terrible things and we have to stop them before someone else gets hurt.”

She dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know. I mean you said that your friend...”

Hannah knew what she was about to say. “She had problems but she wouldn’t have done this as a joke.”

“What do we do?”

It was just then that the cooking show was interrupted by a news alert. Hannah didn’t even notice the change but Kyle pointed towards the screen. “Look!” he said.

It was the governor standing at a podium with his eyes red from crying. Even with the sound low they got the whole story in a matter of a few jump cuts. The footage went from the governor to a photo of his daughter to a shell-shocked college student to a stock photo of another twenty-something with sandy blonde hair.

“Oh my god,” Grace said. “That poor man.”

“What happened?” Hannah asked.

Kyle motioned towards the remote. “You mind?”

Grace nodded and the volume went up. “...a nightclub on Oakridge Avenue. Clubgoers said they saw Powell there the night of her disappearance.”

It cut to the college student. “There was this guy who was with her all night and then he beat up my buddy. He seemed crazy and he took her in this car.”

The newscaster came back. “Police have identified the man from this footage as Simon Archer of Peteville. Archer was the victim of an abduction himself in the late 90’s at the hands of a neighbor.”

A meek girl came on the screen identified as a co-worker. “I saw him the day he went missing. He came to work. He’s a really nice guy. He’d never do this.”

The press conference continued. “Our lovely daughter will be missed,” the governor said. “She was the light of my life and will always shine in my heart and in the heart of my family.”

Kyle turned towards them. “I think this is part of it. That Simon Archer kid...I bet he’s part of this, too.”

“You think?” Hannah said.

“I saw him on some talk show not that long back. He seemed like a gentle guy. Why would he snapped and kill someone for no good reason?”

Grace looked at the screen with confusion and shock. “I think you’re right. What if we find out how he got away. Couldn’t we trace that car or something? I mean there has to be a way to find out...”

Kyle nodded. “There’s cameras everywhere, especially when there’s a huge celebrity at a bar. I bet you anything one of those kids has a picture of that car. We find that and we can tell the cops.”

It seemed hopeless. The police barely cared when they saw a bomb and a confession letter. They would laugh at the threadbare thoughts of a desperate people. But still, it was better than nothing. “Let’s at least try.”

Kyle had written down the name of the guy who was at the bar. “Let’s start with the kid and work our way back.”

“Anything,” Grace said. “Anything to get him back.”

Benjamin didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to hurt Dennis but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go to that auditorium and do something so horrific. All that would happen would be the inevitable guilt compounded on a lifetime of pain. He couldn’t live another second with that pain. This driver was the only thing between him and relief.

The scissor handles dug into his fingers.

“Please,” the driver. “Just stop.”

He wasn’t letting up and he wasn’t unlocking the doors. As much as he didn’t want to hurt this man, there was only so long he could wait. That camera wasn’t for show and those people on the other side weren’t messing around. Something would happen, whether it be to him or Dennis.

“Now! Or I slit your throat.”

He could do it. He felt the strength inside. The point of the scissor dug into his neck and a tiny droplet of blood burst against the metal. The driver winced as his hand went from the steering wheel towards the door.

“You don’t understand...” he started to say but Benjamin dug the scissor point in further.

A thread of formed and started to drip down his neck. “I’m serious.”

Eduardo looked up at the camera with tears in his eyes. “Please don’t hurt them,” he said as he pressed a button and the locks burst open.

Benjamin threw the scissors to the side and rushed to his back door. They were still on the freeway. It would only take a few seconds to get from inside to the right lane. It would be over before he could blink.

He burst through the door and hurled his body out of the car. Benjamin’s feet twisted in the doorway and he fell to the ground, flat on his face. The concrete and asphalt scratched his cheek as he kicked and hoisted himself up his knees. On the tips of his toes, he bounded towards the back of the car and towards free way.

As he stood near the trunk, he watched the hundreds of car rush past him at sixty miles an hour. Just a jump. Just one leap would move him from the safety of the ground to the hood of a car. It wouldn’t take much.

His foot crossed over the first line and a car rushed past so quickly the air pushed him backwards. In his bedroom he hadn’t come close enough to the edge to feel this. There were pills and vodka but they had been sitting on his table for the previous three hours. Every time his hands went for the Vicodin he almost felt a slap backwards. His daughter, his little girl, had been rash. She’d been at college for one month and was homesick and angry. After she got pregnant her junior year of high school, he had acted in her best interest. When his wife begged him to let her to get rid of the baby before she got too far along, he refused. No daughter of his would be a murderer and he demanded that she carry the baby until the end and she could give it up for adoption if that was what she wanted when it was all said and done.

He didn’t anticipate the pain he’d caused Stephanie that year. A straight-A student until she conceived, her grades plummeted to C’s and D’s because she was too ill to go to school half the time. Her pregnancy, which ended up being twins, was hard on her body. Many days the former track star barely had the energy to get out of bed, much less study for her exams.

She gave birth in April to two little girls. The moment she saw them and held them, all the pain and stress of the last year seemed to melt away. He had never seen her so happy and in love.

Until her ex-boyfriend, the son of extremely rich and well-connected parents, suddenly reappeared in the picture. Benjamin was doing pro bono work at the time and making little. They had spent their savings to travel and send their daughter to college. That brat’s family was old money and had millions to spare.

The moment the twins were born, the McCrady’s swarmed all over the babies. Scott had said he wanted nothing to do with them at first and suddenly, but once they were around the whole family got involved.

They claimed Stephanie was an unfit mother. Scott used personal details from their relationship against her including her depression and anxiety at taking care of a baby. He also didn’t include the fact that he agreed and that was why they split up.

Benjamin didn’t fight as hard as he should have for the twins. Stephanie seemed so lost and confused and the McCradys were more capable of taking care of the kids. Hardly with any protest, he allowed the case to go to a quick trial and had his associate run the case, claiming he was too close. It was more that he didn’t agree and would make his daughter hate him more than she already did.

The twins were pulled from her arms in a clear July afternoon. She screamed for them and cried for hours after the McCradys took them away. The two afternoons a week she was allowed to see them wasn’t enough. It spiraled her down to a well of sadness he’d never thought possible.

By inertia, she made it through her senior year but it was a different Stephanie. She no longer smiled and her interactions were clipped and distant. He enrolled her in the local college through a few connections at work with the thought that a little distance might do her some good.