Sacrifice (16 page)

“HELP! HEEEEEELP!”

His mouth filled with bugs. Terrance choked, coughing and spitting, lungs burning. Still he continued to run, taxing his injured muscles, forcing his legs into some jerky off-balance semblance of a sprint. Spots danced before his eyes. He knew he was going to pass out soon and without help; that would be the end of it. He staggered into the street and heard cars honking, tires squealing as they swerved to avoid him.

I can’t go out like this! I’m fucking Terrible Terrance Taylor! Triple T! I can’t die like this!

But his lungs were on fire; they felt like they were going to burst and his stomach threatened to revolt. Unable to catch his breath, choking on insects, bleeding from several dozen bites, stings, and cuts, he soldiered on.

“Nine-one-one emergency, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?”

Terrance ran, loping and limping as fast as his legs would carry him, spitting insects from his mouth and blowing them from his nostrils as he struggled to breathe, enduring the pain of bee stings, feeling his flesh bubble, filled with insect venom. His heart began to stutter in his chest.

“Hello? You have reached the police. Do you need emergency assistance?”

Terrance spit out a fist-sized wad of insects and took in a deep breath. His tongue was swollen from where it had been bitten and stung.

“Help!” He wanted to scream, “I’m being attacked by bees and fucking birds and dogs and cats and shit! And fucking kids! Fucking kids! Their trying to kill me! I’m being eaten alive!” but his words came out in a hoarse mumbling rant, spluttering syllables around his engorged tongue, words running together as he struggled to get everything out in one breath. He wasn’t sure if anything he’d said was remotely intelligible.

“Sir, what address are you calling from? What is your location?”

There was a sound like someone starting up a lawnmower, but wet, angry. That’s when Terrence finally opened his eyes … and saw the Pit Bulls charge. They tore into him with a savagery that was uncommon even for this breed, bred for brutality, doing more damage in the space of a few seconds than all the other animals had done together. Terrance fell and the children rushed in behind the dogs, adding their teeth, fists, and feet to the onslaught.

Across the street, Terrance’s neighbors stood, watching his destruction. They’d been there since the evening, since the little girl first passed the hate onto Terrance. They’d stood there, watching and hating, saying nothing as their children joined in on his unmaking. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but a few he’d exchanged pleasantries with on a regular basis. Nothing more than “Hi” and “Bye” and an occasional comment on the weather or the latest football or basketball game, but they knew him. One or two had even been to his condo to watch a game.

One of the crows finally succeeded in avoiding Terrance’s hands long enough to peck out one of his eyes. His other eye went soon afterward. Terrance opened his mouth once again to scream, to beg his neighbors for help. Bees, flies, moths, and gnats swarmed down his throat, clogging his windpipe. A little redheaded girl with her hair in a French braid, wearing a pink shirt silk-screened with the image of a mischievous little red devil in a catholic school uniform and the caption “The only hell my parents ever raised was me” reached into Terrance’s mouth, seized his tongue, and wrenched it free from its moorings in the back of his skull with a wet ripping sound. One of the Pit Bulls, who’d been tearing at his belly, dragged out a yard of steaming purple intestines like sausage links and began to consume them. Terrance felt nothing, knew nothing. The bee stings had sent him into anaphylactic shock, stopping his heart, and the rats and birds had already worried much of the flesh from his arms, legs, and face. In minutes, he would be little more than a skeleton. His neighbors continued to watch.

Chapter 25

“Where are you taking her? I want to stay with my wife.”

Frank Wells tried to turn around to reach for his wife, eyes wide and panicky, sweat already building up on his forehead. She turned toward him as Rafik led her into one of the suspect interview rooms with that same doomed look on her face.

Malloy draped an arm around Mr. Wells and steered him toward one of the other interview rooms, almost dragging him away. “She’ll be fine. These things go much quicker if we can interview you two separately.”

“This won’t take long then?” Frank asked hopefully. His eyes darted everywhere but in the direction of the detective and seemed to favor his own shoes and hands above any other sight in the room. He was even more fidgety now that they were alone than when the detectives showed up at his doorstep.

“That all depends on you.”

“Can I call my lawyer now?”

“Of course you can. But once your lawyer gets involved, there’s nothing I can do for you. If we find out you’re involved in what’s been going on with these missing girls, I won’t be able to make any deals with you. No leniency of any kind. If you get convicted, the prosecutor will be shooting for the max. And we
will
find out, Mr. Wells. We’ve got enough evidence right now to arrest you, and any day now we’ll have everything we need to ensure a conviction. So it’s up to you. Do you want to go talk to your lawyer, which I can almost assure you will lead you right to death row, or would you rather sit down and come clean with me?”

Frank’s eyes watered as he stared across the table at Malloy. He looked helplessly from the detective to the door and back down at his hands. The man was feeling the pressure, but Malloy was afraid he had pushed too hard and played his hand too soon. He should have taken his time and asked him some innocuous questions to gain his trust before going for the jugular. But it always threw him off when a suspect called for his lawyer before his ass even touched the seat. So he’d gone right for the ultimatum. It was a bluff with no teeth behind it. There was not a single piece of credible evidence he could produce that would tie him to his daughter’s abduction. The man would either crack right this second or he’d call for his lawyer and be out of there within the hour.

“I think I’d like to speak to my lawyer right now, please.”

Malloy smiled confidently, despite the feeling that he had just blown the interview completely. There had to be some way to salvage it.

“Would you take me to a phone please?”

“Sure. You can use my cell phone.” Malloy reached into his pocket and handed the cell phone across the table to Frank Wells. When Wells reached for it, John held on, staring him directly in the face until Wells finally met his gaze.

“I’ve been asking myself something all night …”

“What? Can I just use the phone please?”

“Sure.” He let go of the phone, and Mr. Wells immediately flipped it open and began to dial. The detective reached out and flipped the phone closed again. “But first answer me one thing.

“Why would a couple go out partying all night while their kid is missing and possibly dead or tortured or in the hands of some pervert? I mean, we’ve been watching you all night, dancing, drinking, and having a great old time. We even took pictures. All this while your kid is out there somewhere in the hands of Lord knows who. I wonder what a jury will think of parents like that?”

The detective let go of the phone, and Wells flipped it open again and hit redial. The phone began to ring. More sweat drenched Frank Wells’s brow.

“Because I know what I thought watching the two of you. It looked like your kid was the last thing on your minds. Like you don’t care one bit that she’s missing. Because maybe you already know where she is. I mean, for a second there, it even looked like you two were celebrating … celebrating getting away with murder. But that’s just my opinion. I’m single, never been married, never had any kids. Maybe a jury filled with fathers and mothers would look at it differently.”

Mr. Wells flipped the phone shut again. “I didn’t hurt her.”

“What happened, Mr. Wells?”

Rafik barged in before he could answer. “Detective Malloy, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Malloy could tell from the look on his partner’s face that it wasn’t good news. He walked to the door, casting one last look over his shoulder at Mr. Wells before stepping out into the hall.

“Bad news. Their lawyer just showed up.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Wells called the minute we arrived. She had her own cell phone.”

“Fuck! I knew we should have frisked them.”

“They weren’t under arrest.”

“Look, this guy is about to give it up. Can we stall for a few minutes?”

“Their lawyer is in there with Mrs. Wells right now. He’s demanding they both be released.”

“Well, Mr. Wells hasn’t asked for a lawyer yet. Okay, he did, but he changed his mind. He can still give his statement.”

“Not without his lawyer present. It wouldn’t be admissible in court. Unless he says otherwise, their attorney represents them both. So once one of them lawyers up, they’re both off limits.”

“Fuck! But what if he refuses representation and
wants
to give his statement?”

“Has he said that?”

“He was about to when you barged in.”

“Get it on tape and we’ll have something to work with. But you better be quick about it before his attorney gets to him. I’ll try to stall.”

Malloy opened the door of the interview room and ducked back inside just as the Wells’s rabid attorney came storming out of the interrogation room toward the detectives.

“I’ll hold him off. You get busy.”

Chapter 26

“What was that about? What’s going on?” Mr. Wells asked, even more agitated than before.

“Another girl went missing, Frank. You’ve got to tell me what’s going on. If something happens to that little girl I’m going to do everything I can to pin that on you too.”

Frank Wells’s hands began to visibly shake. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, and he clasped his hands beneath his chin as if in prayer.

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with the black woman in that picture on your mantle. What does she have to do with all of this, Frank?”

He covered his face with his palms and began to loudly sob. Malloy waited for him to finish, but he was beginning to lose his patience.

“We gave Mary to her.”

“You what?”

“We gave Mary to Delilah, the woman in the photograph.”

“For what? What does she do with them?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Frank, I’ve seen some strange things in my career. I’ve seen some pretty strange shit during this case. Right now, I’m willing to believe just about anything.”

Chapter 27

“Her name is Delilah. She’s a voodoo priestess. She has this power, this amazing ability she shares with her followers, with the true believers. She can take away all of your pain and fear, all your anger. You wouldn’t believe what it has done for my marriage. Imagine what it would feel like to love without fear again. It’s just like the first time I fell in love. Years of pain and resentment, all gone. It’s the most incredible feeling you could imagine. No more fear. No more anger. But she can only take so much from us before it starts to overwhelm her and she has to get rid of it. That’s what the kids are for.”

“Is he for real?” Mohammed asked.

“Just watch the tape. There’s more.”

Frank Wells had left with his lawyer less than fifteen minutes ago, but not before Malloy had gotten his entire confession on tape.

The video continued: “I don’t understand. What does she do with the girls? What did she do to Mary?”

“She puts it all into them. She says the little girls can handle it because they internalize it all somehow and keep it inside. But they have to get rid of it too. They have to give it to someone else. If they hold it in too long, it burns them out. That’s what happened to those other girls. They didn’t get rid of it quickly enough.”

“And what happens to the people they give it to?”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The tape ended with the Wells’s lawyer bursting into the interview room and escorting Frank Wells out after threatening Malloy’s job.

Malloy turned off the tape. “So what do you think?”

The expression on Mohammed’s face was not at all what Malloy had been expecting. The detective appeared to be deep in thought, but there was something else going on behind his eyes. It looked like hope.

“I think we need to find out who this voodoo chick Delilah is and get someone on the inside somehow. We need to find out where they have their meetings and we need to find out how she’s doing this.”

“I’ll talk to Mr. Wells again. If I can get the location from him I’ll go undercover,” Malloy said.

“They’re both gone and I don’t think their lawyer will let us anywhere near them.”

“Then we get a judge to get us a warrant for their arrest. This tape should be enough.”

“It’s probably inadmissible.”

“By the time their lawyer is able to get in front of a judge to argue for their release, we should have everything we need. One night in jail should break them. Once we have the location, we’ll go in there ourselves.”

“I want to go in alone,” Mohammed said, looking away from his partner.

“You what?”

“I want to go in alone. You can stand by as back-up, but I think it would look weird if two dudes went in there together. I think it needs to be a couple.”

“A man and wife? Like you and Emily?” Malloy asked, one eyebrow raised, a disappointed look on his face.

“Yeah, like me and Emily.”

“Mo, I know what you’re thinking and I understand, but don’t be stupid. This is all crazy. Don’t get wrapped up in it.”

“Wrapped up in what?”

“Don’t play me, Mo. I know you. You think she can really do it and you want her to heal your marriage. And I’m telling you not to do it. It’s not worth it.”

Mohammed looked shocked. “Not worth it? What do you mean, not worth it? It’s worth anything … everything. I love Emily, but we’re not going to make it unless something drastic happens, unless something changes. This could be what we need.”