“I’m not much of a housekeeper,” her captor was saying, “but I’ve tried to tidy up a bit in anticipation of you joining me. I hope you like what you see.” Carli looked around in amazement, wondering what in the world he could possibly have done to tidy up, and then the man forced her to turn right. He opened a door and led her down a creaky set of stairs to the basement.
If the kitchen was dirty, the basement was just plain creepy. It was mid-afternoon, but the late-May sunshine barely managed to penetrate the dirty windows. A single, dangling light bulb only emphasized the general gloominess of the place. It felt cool and damp after the warmth outside, and Carli shivered.
“This is where you’ll stay,” the man said, pointing to a small bed set up in one corner of the basement. It had an iron headboard and a mattress so thin it might as well have been a sheet of cardboard. Carli felt a sense of doom settle over her. She wondered whether this was the last place she would ever see.
She stifled a sob and realized the man was talking to her. “You remember I told you how special you are?”
Carli nodded. She wondered where he was going with this and whether being “special” in his eyes was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Well,” he continued, “in honor of your arrival, I have provided you with clean sheets on your freshly made bed!” He said it proudly, nodding in the direction of the bed like some demented hotel bellboy.
Carli knew he was waiting for a response but had absolutely no idea what to say. Instead she just nodded again.
“That’s it?” he said. “A nod? You have nothing to say? I open up my heart to you, let you know I see you as my special angel, and you have no response at all?”
“I—um—thank you?”
The man’s face flushed, and he shoved her hard. She stumbled backward, striking the backs of her calves on the bed and tumbling onto the mattress. The back of her head impacted the iron headboard. A bright flash lit up the room, and she fell onto her side, cradling her head in her hands. She wasn’t sure when she had started to cry again but the tears ran down her face, dripping onto the clean sheets the kidnapper was so proud of.
“You’ve got a lot to learn,” the creepy man said, his voice low and shaking with anger. “Since we’re just getting to know each other, I’m going to overlook your lack of enthusiasm for my efforts. I know you’ll try harder from here on out.”
Carli looked up at him.
“Well?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes…um…I’ll try harder?”
The monster smiled. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now, what do you like to eat?”
She shook her head, not sure she had heard him correctly. “Eat?”
“Yes, eat,” he said, spreading his arms in annoyance. “I want to give you something special. What do you like to eat?”
Carli tried to think, desperate not to anger him again, but the last thing she wanted to think about right now was food. All she wanted was to see her mom and dad again and hug them, and be back home in her room texting Lauren and doing her homework. “Uh…pizza?”
“Pizza.” The man laughed. “Typical teenager. Okay, we’ll have pizza. What would you like on it?”
Carli tried to answer, not having any idea what she was going to say, but instead of words, the tears came again with a vengeance. She flinched as her captor lowered himself to the bed next to her, expecting to be hit again or worse. And it was worse. He wrapped his slimy arms around her and held her tightly, like she was his girlfriend or something.
“If you’d rather,” he said gently, “we can start with your training now and eat dinner afterward. You know, if you’re not hungry yet. I’m certainly anxious to begin your training, and once we get into it, I bet you’ll even start to like it, too. “
“Veggies,” she said quickly. “I like veggies. A couple of slices of veggie pizza sound great.” She tried to put enthusiasm in her voice, hoping it didn’t sound as false to her captor as it did to her.
He held her for a moment longer, and Carli feared the man had seen through her pitiful attempt to put off her “training.” She didn’t know specifically what that meant, but she had a pretty good idea what was going to happen. Finally, he let go of her and stood. Carli wanted to brush the lingering sensation of his touch away but somehow managed to hold her arms steady.
“Veggie pizza it is,” he said, watching her closely. “I’ll be back in a little while with our dinner. In the meantime, make yourself at home.” He turned toward the stairs. “Oh, and by the way,” he said, looking back with one foot on the bottom step. “Don’t bother screaming. My nearest neighbor lives far beyond the sound of your voice, and you really don’t want to try my patience again.”
Then he climbed the stairs quickly and was gone.
CHAPTER 32
BILL FELT DAZED, DISORIENTED, like he had gotten disgustingly drunk last night and was now suffering from a massive hangover. He almost wished that was the case; at least then he could have forgotten about his entire life crashing down around him in the last few hours. He glanced at the little clock hanging over the kitchen sink. It was 5:20 p.m.
Carli was gone, and it was his fault. Sandra had said so, attacking him in front of the police and FBI personnel, and she was right. He had brought the I-90 Killer down on them by his actions. He didn’t regret saving that girl. Would it be any better for her parents to be suffering right now as he and Sandra were? Of course not. But he still knew he was directly responsible for Carli’s abduction by that monster.
He paced back and forth in his tiny apartment, wanting to do something, needing to do something. Canfield and her team of Feebs—an apt description if ever there was one—and local law enforcement had exited Sandra’s home at the same time as Bill. The agent had spoken quietly to him for a moment in the front yard in a vain attempt to take some of the sting out of his ex-wife’s words. “She’s just upset,” Canfield said, “and is taking her fear and frustration out on you. Try not to take it to heart.”