The Ones Who Got Away (4 page)

“Five cities,” Luke caught up on her point.

“Five basements.” They said at once.

“Damn.” Luke swore. “He’s not just a serial killer. He’s a collector.”

The road to our destination was still long. My adrenaline was rushing and I had a spurt of courage to slap him in the face. I did. But he did not feel a thing.

“The body the cops found wasn’t Trisha. You lied.” She accused him with a sharp tone.

“I never lied. You made an assumption. The way you wanted to see it.”

“How did you kill those other women?”

“Your fancy labs can’t tell you that?” John sneered.

“You watched their tapes. Picked them for a reason. Something you liked about,” Linda said. “Or hated.” Luke piped in.

“You still didn’t tell me what gets you out of bed, detective” John changed the topic to Linda for the umpteenth time.

“Tell me where Trisha is and you might get away without whips as a sideline to your life sentence.” Linda’s tone grew fierce.

“When there is something you hold on to. It takes a special significance in your life. When it’s gone, your life is nothing. Like that woman you found in that basement. She held on to her baby. That was what was keeping her alive. When I said her baby was given to child services and was put up for adoption because of her disappearance, she just broke down and floated away.”

“That’s how you kill them.” Linda said, gripping on the truth.

“Kill them? That’s a funny way to put it really.” John said, his mouth twisted into a grin. A perfect image of an evil grin.

“Talk about Trisha. You have nothing to lose, right? Where did you put her body?” Luke pressed him.

“We have been talking about that all night. It’s boring.”John said

“But not the end. Not how you crushed her. You don‘t talk about that, why not?” Linda asked.

“It takes a lot of discipline, holding a woman captive for months. No one hearing her screams.” Luke said looking at the rearview mirror and straight into his eyes.

“And you got caught now. You made that bad turn. A meticulous person like you.” Linda joined in. Getting on John’s nerve.

“Something must have rattled you, for you of all people to make a mistake like that.”

“I don’t make mistakes!”John shouted.

“Trisha is still alive, isn’t she?”

“I’m done talking.” As I looked at Linda, I could tell she knew better that the chance of me being alive was opening up.

Linda just got off the phone call from the station. “Based on the videos you edited, that woman had her baby, another had ice skating competitions as her passion to live for and Trisha had Houston. All of them had something to live for. Something they loved. It must have made you crazy thinking about all the things that they had.”

“I edited their sloppy lives into something beautiful. I gave them a way to believe the delusions they were hanging on to.”

“Delusions? Look who’s talking” Luke snickered.

“Some of the videos aren’t who they are. It’s a charade to give their lives a meaning. Like your job gives your life a meaning.”John motioned to Linda.

“I’ve had it with your bullshit!! Where’s Trisha?”Luke half yelled.

“Who are you when your job is taken away?” John asked Linda, ignoring Luke as if he was invisible. Now, he knows what I feel.

“No one. Just like them. Once you lose something, all hope is gone. When hope is gone, dying is just a formality.”

“But you never gave them a chance to escape, anyway,” Luke accused.

“Who says? That woman who held on to her baby, I even took the door off its hinges. She could have run away and I wouldn’t have stopped her.”

“But she wasn’t looking for a way out anymore.” The truth dawned on Linda’s face.

“Sounds like you’re familiar with it, Detective” John said to Linda, a sick grin on his face.

Detective Luke swerved the car into a sharp turn and it came to a halt. He dragged John out of the car and shoved him roughly to the ground. I watched as Luke kicked John over and over, unleashing his anger until Linda got in the way and stopped him.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time, where the hell is Trisha?” Linda asked

“You’re just like them! Trying to hold on to something make-believe. Because there will always be another Trisha out there! Another me!”

Linda took out her gun. Her finger close to the trigger. “Where is she?” John was getting under her skin. There was no idea what move she might make next.

“She’s dead! I sealed her off while she was still alive.” He turned to Linda and hummed a song that sent chills down my spine. And the fact that a serial killer sang it, made goose bumps rise on my skin. He was that of a psycho. But that song, it sounded familiar like I’ve heard it over and over.  After his little singing session, John continued “Trisha was weak. She had lost hope. And that was the last thing she will probably ever hear before she drifts away like the rest of them.”

“No,” Linda shook her head, denying it. She believed in my strength, my survival to stay alive more than myself. Even though she was a total stranger.

“Pull the trigger!”John dared her.

“You son of a bitch!” She cursed.

“Linda, don’t do it. That’s what he wants. He doesn’t want to be locked up like his victims did.” Luke warned, eyeing Linda’s steady hand ready to close on the trigger.

“You can‘t tread water forever. Eventually you‘ll get tired just like Trisha.” John provoked her.

“No, that song, it’s a soundtrack from an old movie. I know a theatre that plays that movie almost every other day. I’m pretty sure it is still running until today. I grew up listening to it because I lived in that area.”

She gave a winning smile to Luke. A smile of triumph. “I think I know where she is. There is abandoned house near the theatre. A house with a basement.”

John looked defeated, at last. I followed Linda as she drove to the neighborhood. The houses were set too close to each other, suffocating the residents. Linda broke open the door with one swift kick. She walked down a stairway, gun in hand. Moss covered the walls of the basement as water leaks. Drip, drip, drip. I was dying with the suspense. As Linda neared a door, my head started to spin. I had to hold on to the wall to steady myself but I failed and slumped to my knees. This is where I will finally find out whether I’m alive or dead. Whether I can return to Houston now or the hereafter.

Linda shot at the lock on the door and heaved the door open. “I need back-up!” I could hear her barking orders to her cell. I crawled my way to the door and found myself. My body was motionless. I broke into sobs. But then, Linda neared me and she checked my pulse and that was when I noticed it. A miracle. My chest was moving. I was breathing. I was alive. Praise to God!

I was in a coma for two months. When I finally woke up, I left my carefree ways and I took a plane ride with Houston, on a journey to find peace. By then, I knew what life really meant and I made the most out of every day. I became close with Detective Linda, not telling her that I knew everything that happened on the car ride that seemed like forever. I still could not figure out how I became that ghostlike that day. I will just accept it as being one of the miracles hidden in God’s sleeves. A mystery no human mind can ever reach.

Coffee, Croissants and a Pair of Handcuffs

I drummed my manicured nails silently on the metal table, my eyes wandering around the room. I tried to keep my cool but it took all my effort and I was beginning to lose it. I might lose this job, the one I spent all those years in university to get, and it might be flung out the window anytime soon. All because of him. I turned and have a look at him. Jamal, who was sitting next to me had no trouble at all keeping his usual relaxed demeanor and does not seem slightly disturbed.. or guilty. Lucky you, I almost spat out. Uggghhh… I am responsible for him and his actions as soon as he stepped foot in the facility. How could he do this?! He might be sixteen but he will soon be charged as an adult if he keeps on returning to his old habits. After all those guidance and counseling…. it was like he never had any of it.

My palms were sweating and I hastily wiped them on my pencil skirt just as the detective entered the room. I expected someone of that position to have at least salt-and-pepper sideburns but the detective was a young man. Around my age, I think, add or minus a few years. So, that would be around 25 years old. Beggars can’t be choosers. I kept my thoughts to myself and shook his outstretched hand.

“Detective Samuel”

“Ms. Carrie”

“I understand Mr. Jamal here, was involved in the fourth fight in just the past three months. And I believe you are the person in charge of him.”

“That’s right.”

“You refused for him to be confined in the isolation room… I have no idea why. But this kid keeps messing with other kids. I was called in because Mr. Jamal here slammed a kid’s head on the wall and now that kid is in a coma. I don’t think you defending him will do any good for him. He‘ll forever be a spoiled brat if he knows someone always has his back covered. ”

I opened my mouth to deny but Jamal beat me to it.

“Don’t talk as if I’m not in the room!” he half shouted. His eyes blazing as he glared at the detective. “Besides, I don’t need anyone to cover my back,” he continued softly, his eyes still on the detective‘s. “You said that to Rick and look what happened to him.”

Detective Samuel’s expression changed almost immediately. “What did you say, kid?”

“I said you weren’t there when Rick needed you.”

My eyes darted from Jamal’s face to the detective’s. I did not have a clue what they were talking about. I just helplessly crossed my arms and watched the drama unfold in front of me.

The detective closed the distance between him and Jamal.

“That was an accident. He slipped while trying to pry open the window in his room. I couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

Jamal smirked.” That’s what they say but I was the one who found him. Bruises all over. He had marks like he was tied up.”

“I read the reports. There was nothing about bruises.”

“I know what I saw.”

My curiosity got the best of me and I cut in.

“Time’s up guys. Who is this Rick?”

“He was one of the kids at the juvenile facility you’re working at.” Samuel said as a matter-of-factly.

“Amity? But how could Jamal have known him then? He just entered that place a few months ago.”

“That wasn’t my first.” Jamal replied. “I knew that Rick guy five years ago. When I was eleven.”

I was stunned. I obviously needed to digest his portfolio later on.

“So, are you saying that someone at Amity killed him and made it look like an accident?”

Jamal nodded. He looked at the detective.

“He talked about you.”

“Kid, are you picking fights just to get my attention?”

“I don’t even know if you remembered.”

“Well, I do. So, talk.”

“I’m not saying another word unless you promise to keep me out of Amity.”

“I got your back kid.”

“The same words you said to Rick and look where that got him.”

***

I felt my head pounding. Wait, that’s more like ringing…

“Hello” I answered the phone sleepily as I searched for my alarm clock. It was two in the morning. Damn, this better be important or I am going to literally rip this person’s head off….

“Rick died of a subdural hematoma. Amity said it was an accident.” Was saying hello such a pain? Hang on for a second, I know this voice. I rubbed my eyes, hoping to rub the exhaustion with it. “Detective?”

“Yes,” he replied with a tinge of guilt in his voice. “Sorry for disturbing you in the middle of the night but I’m just going through the Rick’s case once again. Something‘s not right. Subdural hematomas aren‘t likely to come by if a person just slips and fall.”

“Well, accidents happen,” I countered.

“Well, this one happened in the middle of the night. No one heard a thing. The next day they moved him out of his room before the cops got there.”

“I don’t see a case here.”

“I thought so too until I saw the autopsy photos. Right now I’m looking at it. I’ve never seen them before. There are bruises consistent with physical altercation. Jamal was right. There’s marks on his wrists that look like restraints.”

“You’re thinking abuse,” I said.

“Yes.”

“So, what do you need me for?”

“The thing is, overtime has been cut to the bone. The Deputy Commissioner is breathing down my neck.”

“And you think I don’t have to juggle frogs myself?”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m saying you can get better leads on this case because you’re an outsider. You don’t have to report to anyone each and every thing you get on a case. It doesn’t work the same way for me.”

“What does this kid mean to you, Detective?”

I heard him sighed. “A few years back, I was working in Narcotics. Rick’s mother was going to testify against some drug lords and she got killed together with Rick’s brother. His father was incarcerated ever since he was an infant. He’s got no one left. I transferred out of that department and tried to watch his back but I guess I did a terrible job at it. You know what, Jamal’s right. What happened to Rick was my fault.”

“Sam, you know you can’t blame yourself for that.” I had gone from ‘Detective’ to a first name basis within a few minutes. He did not seem to mind. “No one could possibly have known what could happen. I don‘t want you to go through all the hassle to reopen the case when you‘ve already got a lot in your hands.”

“I’m not doing this out of guilt, Carrie. Kids like Jamal has been to worst facilities and yet, Amity terrifies him. Something must be up.”

“Fine, tell me where to start.”

***

I cursed under my breath. I cannot believe I am putting my job on the line for some detective - no matter how cute he is- whom I barely know. I had downed two mugs of strong black coffee and I was geared up to take my next move. My high heels clicked silently against the marbled floors of the office of Amity. Calm down, Carrie, you work here. Act normal. I pretended to punch my work card and assessed the situation around me. The clerk was not here yet, the director of Amity, my boss, has yet to arrive, his secretary was nowhere to be seen. I quickly headed to her office. My heart was beating wildly as I closed the door behind me. I was not here to just trespass but to also dig up information on that Rick kid. The detective better have my back if I get caught.

There was a file cabinet at the corner of the room. Conveniently, it was unlocked. My eyes scanned for a Rick Garcia as I rummaged through the folders. Bingo! There it is. I hastily flipped the file under the folders I carried earlier and held it close to my chest. There was nobody outside as I slipped out and tried not to run to my desk. Everything had been running smoothly, I hardly believed my luck. I had just gotten this job three months ago and I had the guts to break in my own boss’s office. But I spoke too soon. To my dismay, the folder was empty. This couldn’t be it. I trailed my steps to see if I dropped the contents but there was absolutely nothing. I’m stuck. Or at least we’re stuck. I dialed the detective’s phone number and filled him in.

“Okay, how long have you been working at Amity?”

“Three months and I plan to extend it if you know what I mean,” I said as I bit my fingernails. An ugly habit I had whenever things did not go the way I wanted it to.

“Don’t worry I’ve got your…”

“Back. I know. I know.” I cut him off. Nervousness was making me snappy.

“Touché.”

“I don’t mean to be like this but it’s just that after finally getting my hands on the file and there is nothing.”

“Okay, tell me what you know at least about that place.”

“Ever since I came here, kids have been pouring in every month. It’s as if there’s no other place to send them to. But of course, we can’t turn them away. You can say that we are understaffed and overcapacity.”

“They say he slipped in the middle of the night. So, who has access to the rooms at night?”

“Counsellors.”
 

“You mean like guards?”

“Guards send the wrong message…”

“So counsellors sound much better?” I could hear the teasing smile in his voice

“You can say that. Wait, I managed to find out where Rick’s room was from some of the kids I counsel. The counsellor who oversaw his room was Ms. Samisha. So, that‘s where our second lead is.”

***

I found myself staring at her muscled arms. For a woman, she looked nothing like one. Stop being judgmental Carrie and focus on being like Nancy Drew.  Investigating without stating the obvious, Detective Samuel or ‘Sam’ had told her. Ms. Samisha was briefing the new kids in the common room, a place where the kids spend the rest of their day besides their room and the cafeteria. It was like animals locked up in a cage. Wild animals, I thought as I looked at their faces.

“Lights out at 9.45. I catch you out of bed. It’s detention. I catch you in the common room. It’s detention. I catch you in the bathroom. Detention. You don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with you.  You do, I’ll take you down,” her voice lowered in a menacing tone. I had to admit this lady knows her business.

“Ms. Samisha, I’m sorry to interrupt but I need to ask you about Rick Garcia. Remember him?” Talk about undercover investigating. I almost smacked my forehead.
 

She led me out of the room. The fierce expression still glued on her face. It was enough to make my blood curl and insides twisted up.

“What are you doing poking your nose in stuff like that. It was over five years ago.”

“You see, it’s part of my job to fill in the missing pieces of his portfolio. I‘m just a newbie and I know nothing about him and…” I stuttered.

“All I remember is that on the first day he came, he had a row with one of the kids here, Raymond. In a place like this, it didn‘t take much to set it off.”

“Do you think Raymond is the type of person to hold a grudge?”

“I think Rick was lucky to last as long as he did.”

***

When I told Sam, he said “Guess what? A man named Raymond was brought in the station just a couple of minutes ago for eluding the police. I hope he’s our guy. We’ll find out soon enough because I’m bringing him in for questioning right as we speak.”

Detective Samuel hung up as soon as Raymond entered the room. Raymond Lee, 21 years old, several records of breaking the speed limit before, petty theft and a suspect of gang robbery. And yes, he was from Amity. Old habits die hard.