Let it go.
“You’re back.”
He startled a little at Rylla's voice and hoped it didn't show. The last thing he needed was anyone catching on to this weird little crush he seemed to be developing. “Yeah, Elijah Bennett showed up at the hospital.”
“How’s Grace doing?”
Matthew tried to surreptitiously search Rylla's green eyes to see if she had any indication that he was allowing himself to get attached to Grace in an oh so inappropriate way, but he couldn’t see anything. “Better than I would have thought. She told me that the man who held her captive wanted to be called Emmanuel, and that he didn't sexually assault her, but he had a fascination with fables. He used them to test the girls, apparently, they were lessons. Grace said one of them would live and one die.”
“Did she know this Emmanuel?”
“No. Said she’d never seen him before.”
“Did she give a description?”
“She did but it was nothing remarkable. Still, when she’s stronger we’ll have a sketch artist work with her, see if we can get something useable. Who’s the owner of the house?” It would be much easier if they could just get the name off the deed and go and arrest their perpetrator. This weird connection he felt to Grace wasn’t like him at all, but wanting to bring closure to a victim, that was. He’d been there, knew what it was like to feel like you had been left hanging, like you weren’t important enough to warrant anyone’s time or effort, and he tried to make sure no victim ever felt that way. Hewouldfind Emmanuel, nothing else was an option.
“House is owned by an eighty-two-year-old woman named Mable White.”
“So not our guy. We need to find out what we can about Mable, hopefully she has a grandson named Emmanuel.” While he would love that to be the easy answer, there was just as much possibility that the kidnapper had simply killed the old woman and taken over her house. That’s what he would do if he planned to abduct girls and keep them locked away. No one would have cause to look for you in a house that didn't belong to you.
“From what I've seen so far, this house is more like a hotel than a home,” Rylla said as they both walked through the front door. “There are no personal papers that I've been able to find. No photos on the walls, just a few pieces of generic art. Furniture is all beautiful quality, I presume it was all Mable’s, but it looks like he removed whatever personal touches used to be here. There are no knickknacks, no throw pillows, no anything personal.”
Matthew let his gaze roam the living room. The house wasn’t large, downstairs there was a lounge room, a kitchen and dining room, and a den with a large open fireplace. Upstairs there were three ensuite bedrooms, one for the kidnapper and two for his victims, of who he knew there had been many. “If he was related to Mable, you’d think he would have kept a few of her personal items as mementos.”
“I agree,” Rylla said. “What were these tests Grace told you about?”
“I don’t know, I didn't get time to ask her too many questions, she was still weak and exhausted. Tomorrow we’ll have to go back to do a more thorough interview.” Not something he looked forward to even though he knew it had to be done. Making Grace relive every single detail of what had happened to her was going to upset her, maybe even cause the breakdown he knew would be coming, but he didn't have a choice. The kidnapper was still out there and that meant they had to do whatever it took to stop him or more women would be hurt.
“I was just wondering where he did them.” Rylla spun in a slow circle, taking in the entry foyer, and the three open doors leading to the downstairs rooms. “The yard is a nice size, and while someone would have a hard time seeing over the big stone fence, he still couldn’t take his victims outside. We’re in the middle of the suburbs, all they would have to do is call for help.”
If the kidnapper had gone to the effort of soundproofing the house, no way would he be careless enough to allow his victims access to anyone. The furniture in the downstairs rooms, and the bedrooms, meant there wasn’t a lot of available space, so depending on what these fable tests required he wouldn’t be able to do them in any of the rooms.
“Basement?”
“I haven’t been down there yet, but there was a door in the laundry room that I assumed led down to one,” Rylla replied.
“Let’s check it out.” Tomorrow when they interviewed Grace they’d get more answers, but he seemed to be consumed with the need to try to remove any of her burdens that he could, and the more he knew the less they’d have to quiz her on.
He and Rylla walked through the kitchen door and into the tiny laundry room. There was another door in there and they opened it. Flipping on the light switch at the top of the stairs, they headed down into a small, open space. Across one wall there were boxes stacked. Written on the sides he could see the words Christmas decorations printed neatly, and he felt anger surge. Had the man really taunted his victims by decorating for Christmas or were these just leftovers from Mable White?
Since Emmanuel had gotten rid of all the rest of the woman’s things except the furniture, it stood to reason that in fact hehaddecorated for Christmas. Grace told him that her kidnapper had wanted to teach her lessons, was it possible the man was delusional and didn't just derive some sort of sick pleasure from killing the woman, but actually believed that he was helping them?
If that was the case, then it meant there was a possibility he was going to come back.
If Grace was more than just a random woman he’d plucked off the streets—and the fact that he had kept her alive for so long meant there was a good chance she was—then it definitely made sense that the killer might try to come back for her.
Protecting people was who he was, it was what he did, only when he’d tried to protect his family it hadn't worked out the way he’d thought it would. In fact, it had ended up costing him the very people he had been trying to save.
Hewouldsave Grace, do whatever it took to make sure she was free to live the rest of her life on her own terms, and it had nothing to do with a shadowy thought in the back of his mind that if he saved her, she might want him.
July7th
2:41 A.M.
Kick your legs.
Don’t stop.