Her lips parted. “Go…to hell.”
His slap was sharp and vicious. It rocked her head to the side and for a moment stars danced beneath her eyelids. “Ungrateful. You always were. It’s to be expected, I suppose. Does a slab of marble thank its sculptor? A canvas its artist? And I’m rushing.” He stood and picked up the scraps of fabric and the scissors. Busied himself for a few moments disposing of the material in a wastebasket. Taking the scissors back to the cupboard he’d gotten them from.
The cupboard was above a short counter and were loaded with boxes. Supplies he used with the women he enslaved? He took a box off the shelf, opened it with the scissors and then disposed of the wrapping. When he approached her again she rolled away. Didn’t get far before he caught up with her. “First things first.” She struggled mightily as he shoved his knee between her legs to open them and took swab samples. Then he rose, carefully placed the swabs inside the case provided and carried it back to the counter. “Safety is critical. Who knows what you’ve been doing and with whom while you were roaming around lost for the last few years.”
Lost. A hysterical laugh welled up in her chest. As if she’d merely been off course. When in reality she’d spent the last five years running as far and fast as she could away from him.
“You killed that man.” The horror of watching the swift brutal attack was emblazoned on her mind.
“Think, Eleven.” He thumped her forehead with his index finger. “I could hardly let him live after what he’d done for me.” He must have read her thoughts in her expression. “Ah. I see the mental processes are waking up. Too much information can be a dangerous thing. You’re the first to have seen my face, given that cretin’s ineptitude. That will require some careful consideration. Not that you’ll be slipping away from me again.”
He got up and went over to the wall opposite the cupboard where a long Plexiglas container with an attached cradle of sorts was tucked in the corner. It was about six feet long. Two feet high. It had a lid that latched on to the body at several junctures. The man released each fastener. Struggled to lift the lid off and lean it against the nearby wall. Her heart scrambled inside her chest like a wild thing, sensing the horror to come.
He looked at her and his smile sent hot balls of dread spreading through her veins. He was an average looking man. His nose a little too short for his face. His mouth a bit petulant. A non-threatening façade to hide the evil within. “I’ve given this a great deal of thought.”
Striding over to her he picked her up easily and carried her over to place her in the clear box. Her weight had the container swaying on the attached cradle. “Your boot camp training was quite thorough. One can’t expect a second round of training to be successful given the apparent failure of the first. At least not without adjustments.” Leaning forward, he fiddled with a faucet mounted above the receptacle. For the first time she noticed the hose connected to the front. A thin trickle of tepid water began dribbling from it.
He reached up for another twist of the knob and the trickle turned to a slow stream. “You can get anything off the Internet. Even made it to spec for me. But you haven’t seen the most ingenious part.” The heavy lid was lifted and fitted into place. Observing the tiny pinholes that perforated the inside of it had despair crashing over her with the force of a riptide. Mia battled to withhold a low moan of despair. Because it wasn’t difficult to imagine the function of the container.
He took another hose that was hanging loose on the wall and fitted it to the lid above her. Within moments a fine mist began spraying through the small holes at the top. “I know you’ll be tempted to fight. To struggle. Let me show you what will happen if you do.” He rocked the box violently and her eyes widened as the trickle at the front turned into a gush. The light mist became a heavy spray.
In the short bout of activity, at least three times as much water entered the chamber. “Stop!”
He laughed delightedly, giving the side of the container an affectionate pat. “It’s motion activated. The hoses begin the flow, but the slightest movement of the box increases it substantially. There’s a drain, of course, but it can only be operated from the outside. Struggle or not, it will take a bit to fill and I have to get back to my guests.” He straightened. “Probably should change my clothes first. I’ll be back in a bit. It’s when the chamber is nice and full that the fun really starts.” She heard a repeated clicking sound. Realized in a wash of despair that he was latching the lid.
And the tiny sound of each lock being secured just punctuated the bout of misery she knew was just beginning.
* * * *
Hunter gave him a hard look as they walked out of the police station together. “Why are you here? Where’s Mia?”
“That’s the question of the day.” Jude filled him about about the hotel fire and Mia’s subsequent disappearance. The operative slowed his pace as he listened, eventually coming to a complete halt.
“Fuck me. This is all my fault. I should have let the cops rot out there until the other officer was on site. Goddamn it!”
With a nudge of his elbow Jude got the other man moving again. He felt as though he were standing in place already; as if time was rushing by while he was on a treadmill trying to catch up. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that would have made a difference. There’s no way the cop would have kept her in there while the fire alarm was having the building cleared?”
“Yeah, but the cop would be armed,” Hunter said darkly.
“Paulo and Blake will be here in a matter of hours. Raiker’s is sending a couple investigators tonight.” Jude lifted the fob and unlocked the door. As they both slid into the vehicle, he continued. “I want you to go Jackson Hole. Someone has to keep an eye on Weale. We can’t afford to overlook the possibility that taking her to his place there would be a quick way to get her out of town.”
“No.” Hunter correctly interpreted Jude’s narrowed look. “We aren’t splitting up. Not with the way things are going. You can send two of the other ops there when they get in. And in the meantime I can hire a PI to track down Weale and keep tabs on him. But I know you well enough to figure you’re hedging your bets. You don’t expect her to be in Jackson Hole. You think she’s here where Weale’s employer is.” When the seatbelt alarm dinged Hunter belatedly secured his.
The problem with hiring your friends, Jude thought as he started the car and drove out of the lot, is that they knew you too damn well. “We’ve got a direct line to Weale. I don’t have proof that Davis is involved, other than the email that was sent to Munson yesterday when Weale wasn’t here. But nothing the cops would find convincing.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” There was a grimness in Hunter’s voice to match Jude’s. “Let’s go get some.”
* * * *
If she gave in to the stark hopelessness filling her, Mia knew she wouldn’t have a chance. There had to be a way out. The monster said he’d had the chamber made to order. But, she reasoned, shivering as the water lapped under her shoulders, the manufacturer couldn’t have known how it would be used. Surely the weight of a full size adult would put a strain on it, wouldn’t it? Even aquariums, built to withstand the pressure of the water they would hold, might give if something within applied even more force.
The constant mist collected inside, minuscule drops melding and merging to form crooked pathways tracing down the interior the glass. Her bound wrists were behind her. Useless. Her best chance was to explore with her secured feet. She drew her knees up, alarmed when even that movement had the container swaying. The mist instantly grew heavier. The hose gurgled and sent a violent gush of water from the front opening. A ball of dread lodged in her throat, Mia went very still until the flow slowed again.
A long breath shuddered out of her. She looked around the room frantically, seeking inspiration. It was a fairly small space, only a few feet longer than the box she was in, but there was a door next to the cupboard. Another room? A closet? Recalling his mention of boot camp earlier, she stared at the space with new eyes.
When she’d managed to escape she’d run out a stout wooden door. Up stone stairs, through an unlocked door, then suddenly she was outside. She’d traveled down no steps today. This was a garage, with what looked like a false wall concealing this space from the outer area. Her gaze traveled slowly around it. The walls and ceiling were covered with a thick white padding. Though she’d never seen anything like it before, it suddenly occurred to Mia that it was there for soundproofing.
A frigid shiver crawled up her spine, one vertebra at a time. Deliberately she tried to send herself back to the days when she’d first been captured. Everything inside her shrank from the memory. The drugs. The beatings and repeated rapes. But the place she’d been in had been small, hadn’t it? Concrete walls. She’d been hooded when she arrived at ‘training’ both times and again when she’d left. She’d been alone there.
The building where she’d been imprisoned with the others had stone walls. Stone floors that were so chilly in the winter he’d allowed them to earn rugs for their cells. Mia’s behavior had never merited one.
There had to be a reason this room was soundproofed when their prison hadn’t been. Perhaps in their cells there’d been no chance of anyone hearing them, even if they’d dared make a sound. When she’d escaped Mia couldn’t be sure how far she’d traveled before seeing a house because she’d tried to avoid roads. Move only at night. Because their prison had been isolated?
And this place must hold the risk that someone might hear a woman screaming in agony.
The realization solidified her resolve. Tamping down the dread at what she was about to do, she lifted her feet from the floor of the Plexiglas container. The water pressure increased slightly. It was lapping above her shoulders now. How long to fill it? She tried not to consider the answer. She raised her feet, one fraction of an inch at a time, consciously aware that the action had the mist turning more to spray. The trickle from the front opening increased to an even flow. By the time her feet were pressed against the lid of the container, every pulse in her body pounded with a frantic intensity.
Taking a deep breath, she kicked at the lid with all her might, shutting her eyes to the instantaneous spurt of water. It ran down the sides of the vessel and she felt it creeping into her ears and the sensation was almost enough to have her hesitating. Until her gaze landed on the door to the next room. Four’s words blazed across her mind.
We are twelve with the new girl at boot camp.
If there was another woman locked inside the next soundproofed space, Mia was going to do whatever she could to get them both out of here.
She drew her knees back and kicked her feet hard at the top. The water spilled down the sides of the container. Jetted through the front hose. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The lid was heavy. She’d see him struggle to even lift it. Changing tactics, her next kick was aimed at the front panel of the enclosure. With all her might Mia slammed her feet against it over and over again, the answering incoming surge of water keeping time with the force of her kicks.
* * * *
“These binoculars suck.”
Jude could heartily agree with Hunter’s muttered assessment. The equipment at headquarters far out-paced what they could find at the local department store. The narrower vision view consistent with high magnification glasses was worse than expected and they were far more difficult to keep focused. But they allowed him to keep an eye on Anthony Davis, so they served their purpose.
They’d had to approach the house two miles out, creeping as close as they dared to the party that was being hosted in the back yard of the Davis home. As a house it was impressive, a three-story structure featuring multiple porch lines and soaring peaks, acres of plate glass hemmed in by gleaming diagonal wood siding.
“The sale of old crap must pay a helluva lot better than Bishop Enterprises,” Hunter muttered over the cell.
Each of them had taken a different angle of the house. Jude had a center view of the back yard, where at least one hundred people were gathered. Hunter was on the side of the crowd, well beyond the detached structure that must be another garage. Given of the size of the holdings he’d found online for the family, he could be fairly certain they were still on Davis property. But they were nearly three hundred yards out from the house, where the manicured grass had been allowed to revert to a natural prairie state. The tall grass would hide them from view for as long as they wanted to watch.
Jude was just interested in observing as long as Davis was there. His binoculars were trained on him now. Despite the fact that the temperature hovered in the mid-eighties, Davis wore a button down shirt with sleeves rolled up to mid arm and dark slacks.
A three-piece band had started playing about an hour ago. Some of the group was eating at long covered tables inside a voluminous white tent. Others were clustered in small groups enjoying cocktails and conversation. Two couples were dancing to the music, perilously close to the pool.
They were no closer to discovering where Mia was being held. Or even what part Davis had played in her disappearance. And that knowledge was a torch to the patience he tried to summon. As long as he had Davis in his sights, Jude could be certain the man wasn’t near Mia. The PI that Hunter had found in Jackson Hole who was currently camped outside Weale’s place was fairly certain the man was alone.
Which still left whoever had snatched her in the first place. Someone hired by Davis, maybe.
“Doubtful she’d be in the house.”
“Agreed.” Jude looked at it again. It was huge. From what he’d discovered mother and son lived there together.
“And somehow I don’t see him keeping enslaved women in the basement of his business.”
Jude watched Davis throw his head back and laugh at something said by a gray bearded gentleman before clapping the man on the shoulder. The picture of the genial host.