4
It was left to Thomas Souleby to calm the girl down. He had four daughters of his own, and they, in turn, had so far gifted him only with female grandchildren, so he had more experience of placating women than anyone else in the room. This particular woman needed more placation than most: her first act, after they had let her in through the back door of the store, was to grab the nearest knife and keep them at bay. None of Thomas’s offspring had ever pulled a knife on him, although he wouldn’t have put it past one or two of them during their teenage years.
‘Easy, honey,’ he said. He stayed out of range of the knife, and spoke as softly as he could. ‘Easy now. What’s your name?’
‘Annie,’ she replied. ‘Call the police. Please, just call the police.’
‘We will,’ he said, ‘but we just—’
‘Now!‘ she screamed, and the sound just about busted Calder Ayton’s hearing aid.
‘Okay, we’re calling them,’ said Thomas. He motioned to Ben, who already had his cell phone in hand. ‘But what are we supposed to tell them?’
‘You tell them that some bitch and her fucker husband locked me in a basement, and fattened me up like a pig for slaughter,’ she said. ‘That’s what you tell them.’
Thomas looked at Ben, and shrugged.
‘You maybe don’t have to use those exact words,’ Thomas told him.
Ben nodded, and started dialing.
‘Put it on speaker, Ben,’ said Thomas, ‘just so Annie here knows we’re on the up and up.’
Ben tapped the screen on his phone, and turned the volume to maximum. They all listened to it ring. On the third tone, a voice broke in.
‘Chief Morland,’ it said.
The girl seemed to relax at the sound of the voice, but Thomas could still see her casting glances over his shoulder, staring out the picture window in the direction from which she had come. She couldn’t know how long it would be before her captors noticed that she was gone and came looking for her. She didn’t trust four old coots to keep her safe.
‘Lucas, this is Ben Pearson over at the store. We got a girl here in some distress. She says her name is Annie, and that someone has been holding her in a basement. I’d appreciate it a whole lot if you could get here real soon.’
‘On my way,’ said the chief. ‘Tell her to sit tight.’
The connection was cut.
‘How far away is the police station?’ asked Annie.
‘Less than a mile, but I called the chief on his cell phone,’ said Ben. ‘He could be closer than that, or a little farther away, but this isn’t a big town. It won’t be long before he’s here.’
‘Can we get you something, honey?’ said Thomas. ‘You want water, or coffee? We got whisky, if that helps. You must be freezing. Ben, find the girl a coat.’
Ben Pearson moved to the rack to get one of the men’s coats. His motion brought him almost within reach of the knife, and the girl slashed at the air in warning.
‘Jesus!’ said Ben.
‘You stay back!’ she warned. ‘All of you, just keep back. I don’t want anyone to come near me, not until the police get here, you understand?’
Thomas raised his hands in surrender.
‘Anything you say, but I can see that you’re shivering. Look, Ben will go to the rack and slide a coat across the floor to you. None of us will come near you, okay? Seriously, nobody here is in a hurry to get cut.’
The girl considered the offer, then nodded. Ben took his big old L.L.Bean goose down parka from the rack and slid it across the floor. The girl squatted and, never taking her eyes from the four men, slipped her left arm into the sleeve. She rose, and in one quick movement changed the knife from her right hand to her left so that she could put the parka on fully. The men remained completely still while she did so. The girl then moved sideways across the room to the poker table, poured herself a glass of the whisky and tossed it back in one gulp. Luke Joblin looked slightly pained.
‘These people who held you captive,’ said Thomas. ‘Did you get a look at them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know their names?’
‘No.’ The girl relented, and soon the words were tumbling from her lips. ‘They weren’t the ones who brought me here first, though. They were an older couple, David and Harriett Carpenter, if those were even their real names. They showed me some ID when we first met, but what do I know about IDs? As soon as we got to the outskirts of this shithole, they handed me over to another couple, younger than them. They were the ones who kept me in their damn basement. I know their faces. They didn’t even bother to keep them hidden from me. That’s how I knew they were going to kill me in the end. Others came too. I caught them looking at me through the slit in the door. I pretended to be asleep, but I saw some of their faces as well.’
Thomas shook his head in disbelief, and sat down heavily. Ben Pearson looked to the woods, just as the girl had done, waiting for figures to appear out of the gloom, hellbent on dragging her back to captivity. Luke Joblin watched the young woman, his expression unreadable. Calder Ayton’s attention was drawn to the wrinkles on his hands. He traced them with the tips of his index fingers – first the left, then the right – as though surprised to find this evidence of his aging. No further words were spoken, no more reassurances given. This was Morland’s business now.
Annie walked over to the register, where she could keep an eye on the parking lot outside the store. Blue lights shone in the distance. The police were on their way. She watched the four men, but they seemed stunned into inaction. She was in no danger from them.
An unmarked Crown Vic pulled into the lot, a flashing blue light on its dashboard. Although Ben had killed the outside spots when he closed the store, there were motion-activated lights set above the porch. Those lights now illuminated the lot, bathing Chief Morland in their glow as he stepped from the car.
‘I feel sick,’ said Annie. ‘I need to go to the bathroom.’
‘The chief has just arrived, honey,’ said Thomas.
‘It’s the whisky,’ said the girl. ‘It’s done something to my stomach.’
She bent over, as if in pain.
‘I need to puke or shit, I don’t know which.’
Ben didn’t want her to do either in his place of business so he directed her to a door at the rear of the store. It led into his own private quarters, where he sometimes stayed the night, particularly if he was working late in the gunsmithery. His house was less than a mile away, but since the death of his wife it felt too big and empty for him. He preferred the store. That was his place now.
‘It’s the second door on the left,’ he said. ‘You take your time. You’re safe now.’
She headed into the back of the store, her hand over her mouth, seconds before the chief entered. He was a big man, six foot three and topping out at about 200 pounds. He was clean-shaven, and his eyes were gray, like the cold ashes of old fires. He had been Prosperous’s chief of police for nearly a decade, and had taken over the job from his father. Before that, he served his apprenticeship in the Maine State Police. That was how he always described it: ‘my apprenticeship’. Everyone knew that Prosperous was the only place that mattered. He walked with just the slightest of limps, a consequence of a car accident near Augusta back in the day. No one had ever suggested that his injured limb might impact upon his ability to carry out his job, and the chief had never given anyone cause to do so.
‘Where is she?’ he asked.
‘In the bathroom,’ said Ben. ‘She wasn’t feeling good.’
Morland had been in Pearson’s store often enough to know it nearly as well as he did his own house. He went straight through to the bathroom and knocked on the door.
‘Miss?’ he called. ‘My name is Lucas Morland, and I’m the chief of police here in Prosperous. Are you okay in there?’
There was no reply. A cold breeze flipped the ends of Morland’s trousers against his shoes and legs. It was coming from under the bathroom door.
‘Shit,’ he said.
He stepped back, raised his right foot and kicked hard against the lock. The lock held, but the jamb broke on the second attempt. The door opened to reveal an empty bathroom. The small window above the toilet gaped open. Morland didn’t even waste time trying to look out. The girl would already be seeking the cover of darkness.
Thomas Souleby was following behind the chief, and was almost bowled over by him as he moved back into the store.
‘What is it?’ he asked, but Morland didn’t answer. He was trying to hide the pain in his left leg. This damn weather always played hell with it, and he’d be glad when summer came. He stomped into the parking lot and turned left at the corner of the store. Pearson’s was close to the intersection of two roads: the front faced north on the main road into Prosperous while to the west was the highway. Morland’s eyesight was good, even in the dark, and he could see a figure moving fast between two copses of trees, making for the highway. The road crested a hill at Prosperous’s western boundary. As he watched the girl, the lights of a truck appeared on the hill.
If she reached it, he was lost.