Stolen Lives: A Detective Mystery Series SuperBoxset (30 page)

Miriam said nothing, much to Phillip’s displeasure. He swung around, pivoting on the heel of one boot, then stomping back toward the door. “Fine, I’ll get the phone for you, but five minutes is all you get!”

He slammed the door and locked it. Miriam picked up the knife and rushed back to the plate on the wall, jamming it from underneath.

There was some give, minuscule, but enough to keep her motivated. She scraped the knife against the wall, twisting it, pounding it with the heel of her hand as nervous sweat poured down her forehead, stinging her eyes. She could see the dust falling, and the screws pulling out a micro-mil at a time.

Her head whipped back and forth from the plate to the door, keeping watch. Like an alarm bell, she heard the door unlock again, causing her to run from the wall back to the food tray where she hid the dusty knife in her pocket. Phillip stomped back into the room, holding a flip phone in the air. He got within inches of her and tossed it past her onto the bed.

He then knocked the tray over, watching it crash onto the ground. He then sat down on the stool and watched Miriam as she scrambled for the phone. Her heart was beating hard against the wall of her chest.

Was he really keeping his word? She flipped the phone open and turned to him, half expecting some kind of trick.

He held one arm up, touching his wrist watch. “Three minutes,” starting now.

“I thought you said five.”

“Fine. Two minutes,” he said. “Keep complaining, and it will be one, or maybe none.”

She hated him more than anything at that moment, but had no choice but to start dialing as he set his timer.

Last Stand

Phillip Anderson traveled to Arizona with all the information he needed to find Miriam. His youngest and only surviving brother, Jake, had come through for him. The information hadn’t come cheap, and he hoped it was worth it.

Miriam had changed her last name to Sandoval, and moved across the country to the city of Chandler, Arizona, for reasons unclear to Phillip. She had joined the Chandler City Police Department as a detective. Phillip wasn’t surprised. He knew she couldn’t help it. Law enforcement was in her blood.

As he crossed the state line from New Mexico in his ‘73 El Camino, the arid climate was immediately noticeable, slightly more intense than his journey through El Paso. It made his skin even more dry and leathery.

He drove the speed limit and stayed as inconspicuous as possible, every part of his body covered with the exception of his face. Just the right clothing for the desert, but he had no choice. His boonie cap and sunglasses helped conceal the burns, but he was not invisible—though he felt as much during his two-day, two-thousand-mile journey.

It had been four months since they had last met. They were both survivors, Phillip believed, each bearing scars of his own. He thought about the prospect of facial reconstructive surgery but didn’t have the time to pursue it. In a way, his burns were a blessing. He could feel nothing on the outside—not a single physical sensation.

He had arranged for the purchase of a small ranch on a dusty patch of land located on the outskirts of town—Tumbleweed County as it was often referred to. The seclusion was perfect. The dilapidated ranch house had one main selling point—a downstairs 500-square-foot cellar.

When Phillip looked at the pictures of the place online, the last concern he had was storing wine. He had purchased the ranch cash, leaving just enough to get by for the next few months. A new plan to get more cash was also in the works.

Phillip needed a patsy. He did some research around town, frequenting the back alleys, talking to street dwellers, and offering cash for information. He had a tablet and a smart phone and searched public databases for known sex offenders in the area but decided against approaching them. Known sex offenders were too easy. They’d be the first suspects in any missing child investigation. He wanted someone without a record, and he found such a man in Edwin Silva.

While strolling the aisles of SeXstasy, Phillip first saw Edwin when he walked in nervously, approaching the counter. With sizeable girth, shaved head, thick glasses, and funny walk, he looked comical. And to Phillip, he was perfect.

Edwin asked the overweight clerk for movies with young girls. The clerk laughed, telling him that he was better off searching the Internet.

“Yeah, but what I’m looking for, you can’t be caught watching on the Internet,” Edwin replied.

The clerk raised a brow, picking up Edwin’s hint without any further explanation.

“Get out of my store,” he said, with a faint accent.

Edwin stood there, shocked.

“You hear, me? Get out! I seen you in here before. I got your name. Now get out of here before I put that name to a face and make some calls!”

Edwin backed away, stumbling. He ran into a rack of magazines behind him, nearly tripping. He regained his balance and walked quickly out of the store with his head down. Phillip looked on from the aisle as Edwin left, and the bell above the door jingled. He followed Edwin out while the clerk cursed to himself in Italian.

Phillip jogged to catch up as Edwin stood at the corner of the street waiting to cross. Edwin turned and looked unsettled at the sight of Phillip in his long, dark-green duster, black fedora, and sunglasses, and remembered seeing him in the store. Was he going to beat him up?

“Excuse me, sir,” Phillip said with a smile. “I couldn’t help but notice that scene back there.”

Edwin’s large, double-chinned face flushed, and he eyed Phillip suspiciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked ahead, desperate for the walk sign to flash.

Phillip placed a gloved hand on Edwin’s shoulder. “Of course you do, and I can help.”

The walk sign flashed, and Edwin crossed without looking back. Phillip chased after him.

“Look, I’m not a cop, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Stay away from me,” Edwin demanded.

Phillip ran in front of him, stopping as he pulled his sunglasses off. Edwin halted as Phillip’s steely eyes stared him down. “Listen to me. I get it, okay. You and I, we’re not too different. I’m just a little more discreet.”

Edwin’s expression changed from resistant to curious. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about getting you what you need. At a very reasonable price. And all I’ll need is your van for the day.”

Edwin stood in place, uncertain and conflicted. He looked ready to push past Edwin, but his weaknesses got the best of him. “What happened to your face?”

Phillip smiled and put his sunglasses back on. “I’d be happy to tell you all about it, if you’ll sit down and have a cup of coffee with me.” He signaled to the coffee place two shops ahead of them on the busy street.

Edwin looked around, trying to make up his mind.

“Last chance,” Phillip said. “This is an opportunity you don’t want to miss out on.”

Edwin nodded in agreement and followed Phillip to the coffee shop. The nervous look hadn’t left his face since storming out of SeXtasy.

The duo entered the small, bohemian coffee shop and found a booth in the back where Phillip proceeded to lay everything out. He needed a van, Edwin’s van. Phillip had a pickup to make. Highly sensitive products. Exactly the kind of thing Edwin was looking for.

In exchange, Phillip would lend Edwin his car. Edwin remained skeptical, but after a second doughnut, and the prospect of receiving a copious amount of illegal child pornography costing next to nothing, the exchange was impossible to resist. The deal was made after only a little convincing on Phillip’s part. He would get Edwin what he desired. All he needed was his van for two hours tops.

Sarah Bynes was at the top of Phillip’s list of potential candidates. Not only was her father a congressman, but he also had money. But as one of the wealthiest representatives in congress, Jacob Bynes surprisingly took little precaution in providing security for his young daughter. This surprised Phillip the most.

After days of tracking the family’s routine, Phillip learned that Sarah was dropped off daily at a posh private school. On the day of the planned kidnapping, Phillip swapped vehicles with Edwin, as they had agreed.

“Two hours tops, right?” Edwin asked, standing nervous and sweaty in his driveway with the keys in hand.

Phillip looked up, thinking. “Actually, it’s going to take a little longer.”

“Ah, come on!” Edwin said, placing his hands on his hips. “I have to go to work soon. They’re gonna get suspicious if they see me pull up in a different car.” Edwin worked the afternoon shift as a gas station attendant.

“Don’t worry,” Phillip said. “Trust me. It’ll all be worth it in the end.”

Edwin shuffled and then reluctantly handed the keys over. Phillip left in a hurry, promising a great reward when he returned. Edwin seemed content enough. Still worried but content.

Within the next hour, Phillip sat in a parking lot across the street from La Petite Academy, Sarah’s junior high school, where she attended sixth grade. The experience reminded him of one of his last victims, Jenny Dawson—the girl Miriam had rescued. He’d never let something like that happen again.

Early that morning, Phillip had watched Sarah’s mother drop her off in a shiny black Lexus, checking to see if anyone in the strip parking lot was watching him. He was checking to see what Sarah was wearing, and making sure she was there. He was driving his own car then, making sure to stay out of view of any cameras, and only stayed a few minutes.

Normally, at the end of the day, Sarah waited five to ten minutes for her mom, never longer. There were other children around, but Sarah seemed to be a bit of a loner, an outsider, and often sat on the steps by herself waiting. Phillip was confident he could coax her into the van, despite the huge risk he was taking.

That particular day, he saw Sarah much sooner than he had expected. He looked into his binoculars just to make sure. There was no mistaking who it was. He adjusted his wig of curly blond hair in the mirror and examined the thin latex mask he wore to conceal the burns on his face. He resembled a living mannequin—eerie but not nearly as bad looking as his real face.

As he started the engine, Phillip started to feel like his old self again. He pulled out of the parking lot and crossed the road and pulled into the school driveway, past the unmanned gate. The guard was nowhere to be seen. Everything was working out in his favor.

He pulled into the pick-up loop, wasting no time, and slowed to halt, idling close to Sarah. She looked upset. Her arms were crossed and her head down.

“Sarah?” Phillip said, in his most delicate female tone.

She looked up, suspicious.

“Your mom sent me to pick you up. Said you weren’t feeling well.” It was the luckiest break he had in a long time.

For a moment, Sarah just stood in place, looking around with uncertainty. Phillip promised her ice cream. He promised her new clothes. He promised her whatever he could to get her into the van. When she looked her most hesitant, Phillip told her that she must either come with him or go back to class. She reluctantly pulled the squeaky van door open and got in. He didn’t even have to use the chloroform.

He tore out of the parking lot with Sarah in tow and the license plate missing from the rear of the van. He was keenly aware of the abundance of security cameras in the area and didn’t want to set Edwin up—not yet, anyway. What Phillip would bring him would keep Edwin happy enough to keep his mouth shut. As they passed Sarah’s block, she immediately grew more distrustful, examining Phillip’s face with doubt and intense fear. But he was already pulling into the driveway of a closed fast-food restaurant, unzipping a bag containing the chloroformed rag and ready to strike.

***

Miriam dialed Ana’s number on Phillip’s archaic flip-top phone as Philip checked the timer on his watch. Two minutes was all he was prepared to give. There was a heavy static on the line and she could barely even hear it ringing.

Please, please, pick up,
she said to herself.

Once Ana answered, she hoped for a police trace on the line—anything that might give her a chance. She had been isolated for so long that she didn’t know what to think. The four concrete walls surrounding her were all she knew.

Phillip continued to look at his watch, and Miriam was losing precious seconds. Finally, someone picked up—the faint voice of a little girl, unmistakably Ana. Miriam could feel the instant rush of water works, ready to consume her.

“Hello? Who’s there?”
Ana said with both sadness and anxiety in her voice.

“Ana, honey…” Miriam paused, holding the phone close and turning from Phillip to the corner of the room. The static increased but even the faint sound of Ana’s voice was better than nothing. “It’s Mom.”

There was a great silence, and Miriam pictured her daughter, standing there, somewhere, unable for a moment to speak.
“Mom? Mom? Oh my God. Where are you
?” she shouted.

Miriam sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m okay. Honey, listen to me.”

Ana began crying. It was all too much for her. To have her mother disappear for weeks and hear nothing, and then without warning to hear her voice. Miriam knew it was going to be difficult to reassure her in just two minutes.

Phillip shouted out from the other side of the room, “That’s thirty seconds!”

She tried her best to ignore him and continue with Ana.

“What happened to you?”
Ana asked between sobs.
“Why aren’t you home?”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay,” Miriam said.

“You disappeared! How can that be okay? I want you home!”
The anguish in Ana’s voice was almost too much for Miriam to bear.

“I need you to listen very carefully. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes…”
Ana said, weeping.

“Where are you staying?”

“Tina’s house. I’ve been here since you never came home.”