“Mr. Perez?” I said and looked at him. He was very quiet and seemed lost in his own thoughts for a few seconds while looking at the picture. “Do you recognize this man from anywhere?”

He looked at it closer, then shook his head. “No, no. Don’t think I do. I’m sorry.”

I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized his face. Something about him felt off all of a sudden.

“Are you sure? Because for a second there you looked like you knew him?” I said. “Do you want to look again?”

He shook his head. “No need to. At first when I looked at it, I thought it was someone I knew, but that wasn’t him.”

His wife placed a hand on his arm. “Pete has never been very good with faces.”

I nodded, still looking at him. His eyes avoided mine. “I see. His name is Bryan Henderson. Does that name mean anything to you?”

They looked at each other, then back at me. Mrs. Perez shook her head. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help,” she said.

I rose to my feet. “If you suddenly remember something, then give me a call. Anything, okay?”

They both nodded.

Mr. Perez walked me to the door. He held a hand to his side as he opened it. I was about to walk out, when I hesitated.

“Are you in pain, Mr. Perez?” I asked. “I see you holding a hand to your side and wincing.”

“Yeah, I hurt myself on my bike a couple of days ago. I fell. I may have broken a rib or at least bruised it.”

I looked at where he was holding his hand.

“The ribs are usually higher up,” I said.

He stared at me, eyes wide. “Well, maybe it’s something else then. I should probably have it checked out. Thank you for stopping by, Detective.”

He closed the door as soon as I stepped outside. I stood for a few seconds and looked at the yard, wondering why that visit felt so strange. Something was off.

I had barely finished the thought before my phone rang. I picked it up and rushed toward my car, with it pressed against my ear.

“Hello?” I said, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, while opening the car door.

“Hello, Mrs. Wilde? This is Diana Schmidt, from Cocoa Beach High.”

I paused and grabbed the phone in my hand, forgetting all about getting into the car. I only got calls from Diana if one of my children was sick or that one time when William got into a fight.

“Yes? Is something wrong?”

Diana cleared her throat. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that Charlene hasn’t been to any of her classes today, and usually you call in first and let us know if she is sick, so I was just wondering if—”

“If I knew she was absent? Well, no, I most certainly didn’t.”

“It’s just so unusual for her,” Diana said. “She’s always here.”

“She should be,” I said, my heart beating faster in my chest. “And you say she hasn’t been to any of her classes? Not even this morning?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I said and hung up with a deep exhale. Worry began to creep in as I got into the car and took off. Diana was right. This was very unlike my daughter. I didn’t like this one bit.

THIRTY-THREE

Then

Kitty opened her eyes with a small gasp. She felt hot, soaked in sweat, even if she was only in her underwear and a T-shirt that was three sizes too big. She lifted her head to look around.

Where am I?

She was lying on a metal bed in a dimly lit room. The only source of light was a flickering fluorescent bulb, dangling from the ceiling. Next to the bed was a rusted metal table, and there was a single wooden chair in the corner. Her head throbbed from the aftereffects of the stun gun, and she could feel the bruises on her neck where Officer Damian had restrained her.

Why would he do this to me? Why? I thought he loved me?

She tried to move her arms and legs, but they were strapped tightly to the corners of the metal bed with nylon cable ties. Panic set in as she realized that she was a prisoner. Her mind raced with questions, but all she could muster was a feeble whimper.

“Help.”

Kitty fought her restraints, trying to free herself from the metal bed. Her wrists and ankles ached from the tight bindings, and she could feel the nylon digging into her skin. She wriggled desperately, but it was no use.

“Mom? Mommy?”

She said the words but knew there was no mom there. She was all alone. No windows she could look out of and see where she was. Just those dark black walls surrounding her. They were covered with some material that she remembered she had seen before. One time when she was invited into a radio studio, where her friend Julia’s mother worked. They had the same foamy materials on the walls. To stop the sound, the mother had told her when she asked. As she looked at it, heart throbbing in her small chest, she knew exactly what that meant.

No one can hear me.

Anxiety spread in Kitty’s heart as she realized that escape was impossible. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. Where was she? How did she get here? What would happen to her next?

The questions swirled around in her mind like a never-ending loop, filling her with fear and dread.

She cried out for help, even though deep down she knew it was futile.

“Mommy!” Kitty screamed, desperation deep in her voice. But there was no answer. No one could hear her cries for help.

Kitty lay motionless on the dirty mattress, feeling so helpless, so lost and so, so scared. She had been taken from the safety of home and put into a nightmare she could not get away from. What was going to happen to her? Would she ever see her mom again? Her only hope was to pray for some sort of miracle, but even that felt like clutching at straws. All seemed lost and Kitty’s heart sank deeper into despair with each passing moment.

Please help me. Please someone help me.

A door creaked open, and for just a second, she thought her prayers had been answered. She lifted her head and stared toward it as a figure emerged from the shadows. His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. The sight of him terrified her, and she lost all hope.

As the figure walked closer, she tried to pull herself up, but her restraints kept her firmly in place. Her heart raced as he drew nearer, and she could feel his breath on her skin. He didn’t say a word but simply stood there staring at her, his eyes cold and unforgiving.

She tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but no words came out of her mouth. He seemed to sense her fear and smiled cruelly, knowing that he had complete control over her.

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She knew that she was trapped, at the mercy of this cold and heartless man.