Stanley pulled himself to the toilet, panting and gasping for air. He opened the lid and pulled himself up towards the toilet. He hardly had to put his finger down his throat before food started to pour out of him. Stanley had always hated to throw up more than most things in this world, but now it felt like such a relief. The pressure on his stomach was being relieved slowly as the food sprayed out of him and into the toilet bowl. How on earth could it even contain all this food? He was stumped that he could have this much inside of him. How was it possible?
When Stanley was done, he flushed in a hurry and dragged his body to the sink, where he managed to open the faucet and splash water on his face with one hand, while the other held his body up. He felt so worn out. Completely exhausted. He started to wonder about getting out of this place of hell, but he felt so weary he could hardly think. What was this place anyway? By the look of the decorations, it was a nice house. The curtains were heavy and the carpet was deep and looked expensive. The bed was nice too. King-sized and the sheets made from silk. The room had no other furniture other than a dresser, which he had already looked in the first time he was left alone in there, but found all of the drawers empty. On the walls were paintings of the beach and fish, one of a sea turtle. The air seemed fresh, and he wondered if he was close to the ocean. He hadn’t heard any waves, though, but the windows were hurricane-proof, and he knew from his own house that they blocked out all sounds…even from a roaring road. Stanley knew he didn’t have much time before his guardian would be back. He had tried to look out the window, but hurricane shutters were closed from the outside, so he couldn’t see anything. He did, however, have a feeling that he was on the second floor and the room was facing east, since he could see the light coming through the small holes in the shutters at sunrise and it was gone by midday.
Stanley splashed more water on his face and washed out his mouth, wondering how he had gotten himself into this mess and how he was going to get out of it. What was the idea behind all of this? Why was he being forced to eat all this food? He looked down at his hurting leg, where the fire poker had gone through the pants and the skin. Blood had soaked his pants. The bleeding had stopped. He just hoped it wouldn’t get infected. Stanley let his body sink to the cold bathroom floor, where he rested for a few seconds just to get his strength back. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and planted his back against the wall with a sigh. Then, he folded his hands and did something he hadn’t done in many years, not since…Not since the time he had started blaming God for making his son what he was. But now wasn’t a time to hold a grudge against his Creator. Now was the time to make amends.
Stanley closed his eyes and said a quiet prayer.
“Dear God. I need your help. What do I do? Oh, God, what am I to do? If I try to escape, Elyse might get hurt. If I stay, I am afraid I might die. What do I do? Help me, God,” he said, crying.
As he sat there on the floor with his eyes closed not expecting to hear anything from the God he had turned his back on many years ago, he heard an answer in the form of a small knock from the other side of the wall. Stanley doubted it was from God, but it was something. It was hope.
Stanley gasped. He listened to hear it again, and seconds later, it was repeated. A small knock again. Stanley pulled himself to the wall, and then put his ear towards it. There it was again. And again. Three short, three long, then three short again. S-O-S. Stanley knocked back. S-O-S.
“Is there someone in there?” he heard a voice say.
“Yes,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Yes, I’m in here. I’m Stanley. Who are you?”
“I’m Roy. Help me. I am being held captive and force-fed for hours non-stop!”
Stanley felt how the blood left his head. He couldn’t believe this. He wasn’t the only one here. He wasn’t the only one being held captive. There were more.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
March 2015
I stayed all night at the festival, until the doors closed at one in the morning. Luckily, nothing happened. There were a lot of frustrating hours, where I kept seeing ghosts everywhere. With every face I looked at, I wondered if that could be the killer. Every loud noise made me jump, thinking this was it. He had struck. It was exhausting.
When the music finally stopped, I couldn’t wait to get the people out of there. Soon, the area was emptied completely and I dared to breathe normally again. My two fellow officers went home, and as soon as I had said goodbye to them, I jumped in my Jeep and drove back to my condo. Shannon had decided to go home earlier and was already in her condo when I got back. The kids stayed for one more night at their grandparents’ and I knew Angela was with them. I stopped outside of Shannon’s door, thinking there was no reason for us to sleep separately when the kids weren’t even home. It was funny, but I really missed her when we were away from each other. Even if it was just for a few hours. But, at the same time, I was terrified of smothering her, of scaring her away by coming off too needy and clingy. I knew that was how my ex-wife Arianna had felt when we first met, because I insisted on us being together constantly. I smothered her, she said. She needed her space every now and then. But that was just the way I was. I didn’t need any space. Once I found a woman I liked, I didn’t see any reason not to be together if it was possible. I didn’t know Shannon well enough to know if she felt the same way. Not yet, at least.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should just go up to my own condo. Shannon had a big day tomorrow, with her last concert at the festival. Maybe she needed her sleep. I had to remember who she was. Meeting me and moving here was a big step for her, and she still had her career to consider. She also still had a husband, even though she had filed for a divorce. Joe was resisting it and refusing to sign the papers, which only made everything more complicated.
I sighed and let my hand fall back down. When I was about to turn away from the door and walk towards the stairs, the door opened. Shannon looked at me with a smile.
“Were you seriously going to leave?”
I chuckled and shrugged. “I…I guess.”
“I’ve been watching you through the peephole for the last few minutes. I could hear you on the stairs and you stopping outside my door. To be frank, it freaked me out a little, since I can’t stop thinking about that shooter, but then I saw it was just you.” She pushed me lovingly. “Don’t ever do that to me again. You hear?”
I smiled and pulled her close to me. I leaned down and kissed her soft lips. After a day like this, this was exactly what I needed. “I promise,” I whispered.
She pulled my shirt. “Now, come in.”
I didn’t get much sleep all night, even though I was with her. I kept wondering about Daniel Millman and the shooter’s email. I was so relieved that nothing had happened at the festival and started wondering if this person could just be some idiot pulling our legs. Was he just messing around trying to scare us? Or was the threat real? So far, it hadn’t turned out to be. The case of the body of Daniel Millman haunted me as well. Something was really off with that wife and that odd place he had been found. It just seemed so wrong. I was still waiting for Yamilla to finish the autopsy and hoping that would provide me with some answers, since the wife couldn’t. This coming week, I would have to interview their neighbors at Lansing Island and their friends. It was never easy when it was wealthy people, who, for the most part, thought they were somehow elevated above the law, or at least above suspicion of any kind. They rarely wanted to contribute to any investigation, since they were often too busy for that kind of distraction.
“Go to sleep,” Shannon finally whispered, half asleep, and put her arm on my chest. “You’re keeping me awake and I have a big day tomorrow. Sunday is the main event of the festival. It’s the biggest day with the most people. I have to give them my best.”
Chapter Thirty
March 2015
Sunday morning, I went to check on the kids, since I had hardly seen them in two days. Shannon was getting ready in her apartment while I walked acros
s the beach to the motel. All of our kids were playing beach volleyball with my parents on the sand by the back deck. They were laughing and screaming with joy. Even Emily seemed to be enjoying herself, I was pleased to see. She had a lot of exams right after spring break, and I knew she was worried about them. It was good to see her enjoy herself a little as well. Children’s lives had gotten so serious. It was so different from when I grew up. The demands on them were getting too heavy, it seemed. I felt sad that they hardly got to be kids anymore and just goof around like I did.
“Daaad!” Austin yelled and ran towards me.
“Hey, you can’t just leave in the middle of the game,” Abigail yelled after him.
Austin threw himself in my arms. I grabbed him, lifted him up, and kissed him. “Hi there, buddy. Having fun?”
“You’ve gotta come play with us, Dad. Can you pleeease?” he asked.
I could feel he had missed me. So, I nodded. “Just a few rounds, then. I have to be at the festival at one when it opens. Shannon is singing again today.”
“Can we come, Dad?” Abigail asked.
My veins froze at the very thought. I wasn’t very fond of the thought of them being at the festival, when we didn’t know if this shooter might show up or not. “That’s probably not a very good idea,” I said.
“Aw!” Abigail whined. “I really wanted to hear Shannon sing.”
I looked at my mother for help. “I have to work, Abigail. Maybe your grandmother has something fun you can do today?”
My mother smiled. “Sure. How about we take a trip to the zoo?”
Austin and Angela cheered. “Yaay!”
But Abigail didn’t. “I don’t want to go to the zoo. I’ve been to the zoo before. I have never been to a country festival before. I have never seen Shannon sing. I want to hear Shannon sing.”
I looked into her eyes, then played the grown-up card. “The festival is not for children, Abigail. There’s beer and there will be drunk people present. I don’t want you there with all that. You’re too young. I’ll ask Shannon if she will sing for you some other time, all right?”
Abigail growled. “That’s not the same and you know it, Dad.”
“I do. Maybe another time, all right?”
My mom put an arm around Abigail’s shoulder. “If you’re real nice, then maybe we can go on the zip line? How would you like that?” she asked, knowing very well that Abigail had been pleading me to take her on the zip line above the zoo for ages. I mouthed a thank you to my mother as we returned to the game. I played some rounds and had a lot of fun with my kids, then ate some breakfast that my mother served me on the deck, while the kids decided to go swimming with my dad. I watched the waves and felt horrible that I had to be away all day, since it was a perfect day for surfing. March was always one of the best months. The swell was a reasonable size and often glassy in the morning, as it was today. It was completely wind-still and just plain beautiful. It did look promising for all week, though, and that was great for the kids who were going to surf camp starting Monday.
“So, is there any particular reason why you didn’t want the kids present at the festival?” my mother asked.
I shrugged. “We don’t know yet. But I have a hunch that it is best they stay home.”
“I can tell by your worried face that it is serious. Has it anything to do with that body that was found yesterday at the trails in Palm Bay? It was on all the stations last night. The creator of Millman Technologies? He’s a big name around here.”
I shook my head. “That’s a completely different case. We still don’t know much yet.”
“Well, it’s good you’re being careful and protective of your kids,” she said and picked up my empty plate. “Just be careful with yourself and Shannon too. Promise me that?”
I smiled reassuringly. The last thing I wanted was for her to worry. “I promise, Mom. There’s no need for concern. Nothing will happen to either of us.”
Chapter Thirty-One
June 2006
Dottie was worried again. Ever since Elizabeth had started eating, she hadn’t stopped again. At first, it was a thrill and an answer to Dottie’s prayers, but watching her now, eating her breakfast seven months and fifteen pounds later, Dottie started to wonder when Elizabeth would take a break. She seemed to be hungry constantly. And if Dottie told her she had to wait till food was on the table, she would respond by throwing a hysterical fit so big Dottie saw no other way than to accommodate her wishes. At first, it seemed like the right thing to do, since she needed the food, but the child had almost doubled her weight in a little more than six months. Before that, she hadn’t weighed more than eighteen pounds, the same as an average nine month-old baby, and for a long time it had seemed like she wasn’t growing at all, but now she was getting bigger by the day. And it wasn’t because she was getting taller.
“I want more,” she said, with her mouth still full.
Dottie looked at the kitchen counter. It was filled with empty boxes and bags. Just this morning, Elizabeth had eaten a big bowl of Cheerios with milk, two pieces of toasted bread with Nutella, three breakfast bars, and eight waffles. Dottie felt exhausted. She couldn’t keep up with the little girl’s demands. It was suddenly like she was bottomless, like she couldn’t get full. Where did she put it? How could she hold so much food?
“Maybe I can cut up some fruit for you?” Dottie asked.
Elizabeth looked at her mother, and then let out a deep scream. “I don’t like fruit. I want more waffles!”
“I…I’m afraid I don’t have anymore,” Dottie said, showing Elizabeth the empty package.
Elizabeth burst into tears. “But, Mommy…I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry. I’m so hungry!!”
Elizabeth grabbed her plate and threw it on the floor, where it shattered into pieces.
“Elizabeth!” her mother exclaimed.
Dottie felt confused. She had never seen her usually calm daughter act like this. Was it really the same girl? The same tiny girl who never cried as a baby, who slept through the night and was always content? How could she suddenly act like this? What had happened?
“No!” Dottie said. “You’re not having any more food right now. You’ve had enough,” she said.
It was James who had told her she needed to stop the girl; she needed to start saying no. They had discussed it on that same morning before James went off to work. Elizabeth’s constant eating was wearing on Dottie and she wanted to share her concern with her husband.
“Just tell her no,” he said. “She’s at a difficult age, where she needs you to set boundaries for her.”
He made it sound so easy. It wasn’t. Not when it came to Elizabeth. With all the other girls, Dottie had no problem telling them no or telling them to grab a piece of fruit instead of a doughnut when they came home from school. But, when she did the same to Elizabeth, the child when into a frenzy, a mania, a tantrum that could go on for hours afterwards. Just like she was doing now.
Elizabeth screamed and started reaching for things that she immediately threw on the floor. She growled and groaned and yelled at Dottie, while screaming for food like she hadn’t had any for weeks. In her eyes, Dottie saw a desperation she didn’t understand. It was like she was actually hungry. Like she thought she would actually die if she didn’t get more to eat. Elizabeth screamed, grabbed a fork, and started to poke herself with it.
“I’m so hungryyyyy!!!”
Frantically, Dottie grabbed the fork and took it from Elizabeth, who stared into her mother’s eyes while screaming:
“I want food! Please, Mom. Please!”
Dottie gasped when she saw the desperation in her child. What kind of a mother wouldn’t want to feed her child? She felt like crying, then rushed for the freezer, pulling out another pack of waffles.
“Gimme. Gimme!” Elizabeth screamed, and reached out for the frozen package.
Dottie looked puzzled at her daughter, while tears streamed across her cheeks.
“GIMME!!!” her daugh
ter screamed so loud her face turned red.
Dottie handed the frozen waffles to her daughter and watched with anxiety how her three year-old ripped the packaging, and like a wild animal, started eating the frozen waffles, almost swallowing them whole without chewing. When she was done, she licked her fingers, then looked at her mother.
“More. Mommy. MORE!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
March 2015
I drove Shannon to the festival in Melbourne. She seemed to be feeling better than the day before, when she had received the email. I was too. I was getting more and more convinced that this might just be some phony idiot trying to be smart with her. Maybe even get her to pull out of the festival and not perform. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I wasn’t going to let a fool like that destroy her performance today. For all I knew, that was all he wanted. To make her scared. That was how terrorists like him worked, wasn’t it? Filling us with fear so we would change our ways and not live our lives like we wanted to. Well, it wasn’t going to work on Shannon or me. We weren’t going to live our lives in fear. There were always crazy people out there, and it was always a risk going on stage. Life was a risk. It wasn’t going to change the way we lived. And, no matter what, I wasn’t going to make her nervous by talking about it. I was determined to protect her, should anything happen, and had brought my gun and badge.