A Living Nightmare
PART 1
Another Monday morning, but today wasn't like any other. McCall spent the entire
weekend trying to get rid of this constant headache and no matter how many aspirin, hot
compresses, or naps she took, this headache seemed to be around for the long haul.
"Good morning, Partner. How ya doin'?"
"Hey Hunter, can you lower your voice please? I have a horrible headache."
"Crazy weekend partying, McCall? That doesn't sound like you."
"That wasn't me. I hardly got out of bed all weekend. Listen," McCall said while
rubbing her temples, "the sooner we start the sooner this day will end, so what's on the
plate for today?"
"Let's take a ride and we'll see," Hunter said a little too cheerfully.
In route to the local hospital to question a suspect, McCall demanded they stop by
Starbucks for her necessary fix of latte. This coffee is the only thing that's predictable in
McCall's life. Her job is definitely not 9-5. She never knows where her work will take
her or what time she'll be home. Therefore, her social life has severely suffered, but
that's to be expected in her line of work.
As the day continued the headache got worse.
"Whoa Hunter, I have to stop walking for a minute. I am so dizzy. My head is killing
me. Just give me a minute, o.k.?
"You know McCall, you really should see a doctor."
"It's a headache Hunter. It'll go away. It's not a big deal. Millions of people get
headaches every day. I'll be fine in a minute," but the dizziness did not go away.
Two days later after their daily stop at Starbucks, McCall had that faint feeling again, but
said nothing in an attempt to avoid another lecture from Hunter. She could think of
nothing else but getting through the rest of the day and going directly to bed. She was in
her bed and fast asleep by 6:00 p.m. that night. However, when she woke up she was not
at home. 'Where the hell am I and why do I feel so sick?'
It took McCall a long time before her eyes were able to focus. She realized that she was
handcuffed to the posts of this bed. The room was completely bare except for the bed on
which she laid. She struggled to loosen the grip the handcuffs had on her wrists but to no
avail. The more she struggled the tighter they got. McCall's head was still spinning and
pounding so loud she knew for certain others would be able to hear it and come to her
rescue. 'What the hell is going on here?' she thought. She tried to speak, but the words
got caught in her throat. She tried to remember back, but could only remember falling
asleep in her own bed. The raw pain she was in told her this was no dream. Instead, she
was living a nightmare.
PART 2
McCall tried to slow her heartbeat down when it began to race with panic. She laid her
head back down on the bed. For even that slight movement knocked the wind out of her.
She could hear voices in the distance and wondered if they knew she had awoken. She
remained very quiet, trying to hear what was being said. Only she was unable to make
out any words. She nearly cried from all the echoed mumbles that blasted through her
skull. She tried to regain her voice, but it hid from her. She lay there completely still and
totally helpless.
What seemed like an eternity passed by. She did not know just how long had passed. It
could have been about 15 minutes or maybe even 2 hours. She had no way of telling.
Time seemed to stand still. Her head continued to throb, her wrists were bleeding and
badly stinging, and her stomach was cramping up. 'What day is today anyway,' she
wondered. 'Is it a weekday? Would Hunter realize something was wrong because she
didn't show up for work? Or was this just the very beginning of a weekend and no one
would even realize she was in trouble for days to come?' These thoughts and many more
flew into her head and didn't stop until she was interrupted by one of her captors.
"Well, you're awake. Glad you could join us," said one overweight, ugly, burly looking
man.
McCall's eyesight was now back in focus. She could concentrate on this mans' physical
features, but still had difficulty understanding the words that escaped from his mouth.
Her ears were ringing, which made it difficult to hear what this man was saying.
"Wha…wha…where am I?" That question took all the strength McCall had at the
moment.
"Doesn't matter where you are sweetie. You make yourself real comfortable because
you're gonna be our guest for a long, long time. I brought you something to drink.
This'll help you get strong." With that, the man grabbed McCall's head, tilted it
backwards and poured a very nasty, clear, broth-like, liquid down her throat. She
couldn't swallow the lot he had forced and began spitting it back up. "It's all right you
pretty little thing. I'll take real good care of you," he said as he wiped off her chin with
his flannel sleeve and gave a scary little wink. "Now, drink up" and again the broth went
down her throat and right back out. She remembered nothing else after drinking the
broth.
When she next awoke, it again took her eyes a very long time to focus. She was still
cuffed to the bedposts. That much she remembered: being handcuffed to this bed in this
room…and that huge man. What else? What else could she remember? Voices. More
than that of just one man. She was trying to piece all of this together when another waive
of nausea and dizziness hit and took her off guard. Her stomach cramped again, her head
began pounding, she broke out in sweats and began throwing up on herself as she was too
weak to turn her head.
Part 3
"Where's your partner?"
That's the same question Hunter's been asking himself for the last hour and a half. "She
hasn't been feeling well lately, so she probably just overslept or something. I'll try to call
her." But he had already tried…5 times. He kept making deals with himself. 'If she
doesn't show up or answer her phone by 8:30 then I drive over there and see if she's o.k.'
Once 9:30 passed, a new deal was struck for 10. Once Charlie asked the very same
question that Hunter had wondered, he decided he wouldn't be overreacting at this point
if he just showed up at her house. Maybe she really did over sleep. Maybe her alarm
never went off. Or maybe she was really sick and all alone. At this last thought Hunter
put on the siren and speed down the streets to find out that answer.
Hunter knocked numerous times, but DeeDee did not answer her door. Her car was in
the driveway, so she had to be home. Now he was worried. He used the key to her
house, which he kept right next to his own house key, and let himself in. The house was
silent. He searched downstairs and then upstairs, but McCall was no where to be found.
He looked around some more and realized that her house keys were lying on the kitchen
table. Where would she go without her keys? Or without her car for that matter? Her
purse was on the floor in the dining room, wallet still in tact with $54.00 in it. O.K., she
didn't take her purse or keys. Wherever she went, she didn't go on her own. Her bed had
been slept in, but there was no evidence of a struggle. 'O.K. McCall, where are you?'
'Where am I?' she found herself continually asking. Opening her eyes became a painful
experience so she tried to keep them closed as often as she could. Her captors did not
allow her to use the bathroom, so she was lying in puddles and dirty from head to toe.
Today was the day she learned who her captors were. Previously, she had only seen the
one man, but didn't recognize him at all. There was absolutely nothing familiar about
him. But today all 4 men entered her room…one at a time. One brought a video camera
and stood it up in a corner. McCall could see the red light go on. 'Action, rolling,' she
thought, sick to her stomach and not the kind of sick she had been before. She lay
helpless as they poked and prodded her. She could not fight back, she barely had strength
enough to open and close her own eyes. There was one man, one man she recognized.
'Who is he? How do I know him?' She decided she has nothing to lose by asking.
"You remember me, do ya? Well, ya should. Your partner killed me. He murdered my
wife and when he did that I died too. Your filthy partner. And you, you're no better than
the company you keep. Ahhhh! That Hunter! I hate him. I've hated him for years, and
knew that one day I'd get him. Since he killed my wife I figure I'll do the same thing to
you. He'll pay. He'll feel what I felt. He'll know what's it like to lose the woman you
love. I want him to suffer and he will, I promise you that! And you'll also suffer in the
process. That's my plan and look at how well it's working. That's right, Willie Lester
will make him suffer. Now shut up!" With that, he left the room. Camera still rolling.
PART 4
McCall was now top priority. Every available police officer was on this case. It's been
two days and no one has been contacted regarding McCall's whereabouts. There's been
no ransom note, no phone call. But on the third day a videotape arrived addressed to
Hunter. He and Charlie watched the tape in horror. It was edited so that no one in
particular, except McCall, could be recognized. At this point, all they know is that she
had been kidnapped by what appeared to be at least 4 men. They witnessed the torture
McCall was going through and both Hunter and DeVane were dreadfully sickened by
this. Unfortunately, the tape provided no obvious clues.
McCall knew she was being drugged. She guessed that she had been for much longer
than her capture began. The only way it …her coffee! Every day she stopped at
Starbucks. The other man. The other man here is the one who had been behind the
coffee counter. Starbucks Guy and Willie Lester. Two down, two more to go.
McCall realized through the haze that had become her existence, that the tapes were
being switched out at least twice a day. The tapes have to be going to Hunter. She
somehow has to let him know that Willie Lester is behind all this. Surely these men view
the tapes. Surely she would be found out if she simply spoke Lester's name. How can
she let Hunter know? She thought of Mores Code, but realized to her dismay that her
coded message would never come out clear through the videotape. Her mind raced for
answers between horrible pounding headaches. Sign language. She can casually spell
out Willie Lester's name. She'll continually spell it out and therefore, even if the tapes
are edited there's sure to be one full sequence where his name will be clearly spelled out.
"Wait a second. Rewind that part. Look at her hands. Can you get a close up? What's
she trying to say?" asked Hunter.
"I don't know, but it looks like it could be some sort of sign language. Hold
on…Macabe, get in here. You know sign language, right? Is that it?"
"Yeah, give me paper and a pen, she's trying to spell something out. W.I.L.I.L.E.T.S.R.
I think that's what it says."
Hunter looked at the piece of paper Macabe scribbled on for what seemed like hours. He
knew this was the only clue he could count on and it came directly from McCall. 'With
all the pain she's going through she's still sharp as a tack,' Hunter thought with pride.
"Willie Lester! Charlie, it's Willie Lester!" Hunter recounted the story of how his wife
was wanted for murder. Hunter tried to get her to give up her gun, but instead she
pointed it at him and Hunter had fired, killing her instantly. Willie vowed to seek
revenge. "Well, it looks like he has. Get on it."
Hunter felt like he questioned everyone who has ever known Willie Lester. The
informants had indeed been very helpful. Willie had been hanging out with a group of
three. One of which owns a cabin that's not too far from LA. Hunter was sure this is
where McCall has been holed up.
McCall was having trouble keeping her wits about her. It felt like she had been in this
hellhole for weeks, months even, and she had no idea of when, if ever, she'd be free
again. She had spent a great deal of her time in that bed crying. She had thought long
and hard about her life…where it had been and where she hopes to take it. She spent
much time being touched and prodded at by these 4 men. She spent even more time
being sick and wondering if she would ever have another healthy day to live. McCall had
all but given up hope.
Hunter and a squad of police arrived at the cabin. They forced their way in, catching the
men by surprise. Gunfire was exchanged. Only one man was fatally injured and that was
Willie Lester - this was no accident. The fatal shot came from Hunter's gun.
Hunter found McCall still cuffed to the bedposts. McCall thought this was just another
dream. She couldn't quite realize her life was about to begin again. That thought
overwhelmed her as she passed out.
"Physically she will heal," the doctor began. "She's been through a tough deal though.
She's been horribly traumatized. Emotionally…well, that's going to be the hard part.
The healing process will take a very long time."
"Well, time is something we definitely have…and I plan on spending all of mine with
her," Hunter said smiling for the first time in days.
PART 1
Another Monday morning, but today wasn't like any other. McCall spent the entire
weekend trying to get rid of this constant headache and no matter how many aspirin, hot
compresses, or naps she took, this headache seemed to be around for the long haul.
"Good morning, Partner. How ya doin'?"
"Hey Hunter, can you lower your voice please? I have a horrible headache."
"Crazy weekend partying, McCall? That doesn't sound like you."
"That wasn't me. I hardly got out of bed all weekend. Listen," McCall said while
rubbing her temples, "the sooner we start the sooner this day will end, so what's on the
plate for today?"
"Let's take a ride and we'll see," Hunter said a little too cheerfully.
In route to the local hospital to question a suspect, McCall demanded they stop by
Starbucks for her necessary fix of latte. This coffee is the only thing that's predictable in
McCall's life. Her job is definitely not 9-5. She never knows where her work will take
her or what time she'll be home. Therefore, her social life has severely suffered, but
that's to be expected in her line of work.
As the day continued the headache got worse.
"Whoa Hunter, I have to stop walking for a minute. I am so dizzy. My head is killing
me. Just give me a minute, o.k.?
"You know McCall, you really should see a doctor."
"It's a headache Hunter. It'll go away. It's not a big deal. Millions of people get
headaches every day. I'll be fine in a minute," but the dizziness did not go away.
Two days later after their daily stop at Starbucks, McCall had that faint feeling again, but
said nothing in an attempt to avoid another lecture from Hunter. She could think of
nothing else but getting through the rest of the day and going directly to bed. She was in
her bed and fast asleep by 6:00 p.m. that night. However, when she woke up she was not
at home. 'Where the hell am I and why do I feel so sick?'
It took McCall a long time before her eyes were able to focus. She realized that she was
handcuffed to the posts of this bed. The room was completely bare except for the bed on
which she laid. She struggled to loosen the grip the handcuffs had on her wrists but to no
avail. The more she struggled the tighter they got. McCall's head was still spinning and
pounding so loud she knew for certain others would be able to hear it and come to her
rescue. 'What the hell is going on here?' she thought. She tried to speak, but the words
got caught in her throat. She tried to remember back, but could only remember falling
asleep in her own bed. The raw pain she was in told her this was no dream. Instead, she
was living a nightmare.
PART 2
McCall tried to slow her heartbeat down when it began to race with panic. She laid her
head back down on the bed. For even that slight movement knocked the wind out of her.
She could hear voices in the distance and wondered if they knew she had awoken. She
remained very quiet, trying to hear what was being said. Only she was unable to make
out any words. She nearly cried from all the echoed mumbles that blasted through her
skull. She tried to regain her voice, but it hid from her. She lay there completely still and
totally helpless.
What seemed like an eternity passed by. She did not know just how long had passed. It
could have been about 15 minutes or maybe even 2 hours. She had no way of telling.
Time seemed to stand still. Her head continued to throb, her wrists were bleeding and
badly stinging, and her stomach was cramping up. 'What day is today anyway,' she
wondered. 'Is it a weekday? Would Hunter realize something was wrong because she
didn't show up for work? Or was this just the very beginning of a weekend and no one
would even realize she was in trouble for days to come?' These thoughts and many more
flew into her head and didn't stop until she was interrupted by one of her captors.
"Well, you're awake. Glad you could join us," said one overweight, ugly, burly looking
man.
McCall's eyesight was now back in focus. She could concentrate on this mans' physical
features, but still had difficulty understanding the words that escaped from his mouth.
Her ears were ringing, which made it difficult to hear what this man was saying.
"Wha…wha…where am I?" That question took all the strength McCall had at the
moment.
"Doesn't matter where you are sweetie. You make yourself real comfortable because
you're gonna be our guest for a long, long time. I brought you something to drink.
This'll help you get strong." With that, the man grabbed McCall's head, tilted it
backwards and poured a very nasty, clear, broth-like, liquid down her throat. She
couldn't swallow the lot he had forced and began spitting it back up. "It's all right you
pretty little thing. I'll take real good care of you," he said as he wiped off her chin with
his flannel sleeve and gave a scary little wink. "Now, drink up" and again the broth went
down her throat and right back out. She remembered nothing else after drinking the
broth.
When she next awoke, it again took her eyes a very long time to focus. She was still
cuffed to the bedposts. That much she remembered: being handcuffed to this bed in this
room…and that huge man. What else? What else could she remember? Voices. More
than that of just one man. She was trying to piece all of this together when another waive
of nausea and dizziness hit and took her off guard. Her stomach cramped again, her head
began pounding, she broke out in sweats and began throwing up on herself as she was too
weak to turn her head.
Part 3
"Where's your partner?"
That's the same question Hunter's been asking himself for the last hour and a half. "She
hasn't been feeling well lately, so she probably just overslept or something. I'll try to call
her." But he had already tried…5 times. He kept making deals with himself. 'If she
doesn't show up or answer her phone by 8:30 then I drive over there and see if she's o.k.'
Once 9:30 passed, a new deal was struck for 10. Once Charlie asked the very same
question that Hunter had wondered, he decided he wouldn't be overreacting at this point
if he just showed up at her house. Maybe she really did over sleep. Maybe her alarm
never went off. Or maybe she was really sick and all alone. At this last thought Hunter
put on the siren and speed down the streets to find out that answer.
Hunter knocked numerous times, but DeeDee did not answer her door. Her car was in
the driveway, so she had to be home. Now he was worried. He used the key to her
house, which he kept right next to his own house key, and let himself in. The house was
silent. He searched downstairs and then upstairs, but McCall was no where to be found.
He looked around some more and realized that her house keys were lying on the kitchen
table. Where would she go without her keys? Or without her car for that matter? Her
purse was on the floor in the dining room, wallet still in tact with $54.00 in it. O.K., she
didn't take her purse or keys. Wherever she went, she didn't go on her own. Her bed had
been slept in, but there was no evidence of a struggle. 'O.K. McCall, where are you?'
'Where am I?' she found herself continually asking. Opening her eyes became a painful
experience so she tried to keep them closed as often as she could. Her captors did not
allow her to use the bathroom, so she was lying in puddles and dirty from head to toe.
Today was the day she learned who her captors were. Previously, she had only seen the
one man, but didn't recognize him at all. There was absolutely nothing familiar about
him. But today all 4 men entered her room…one at a time. One brought a video camera
and stood it up in a corner. McCall could see the red light go on. 'Action, rolling,' she
thought, sick to her stomach and not the kind of sick she had been before. She lay
helpless as they poked and prodded her. She could not fight back, she barely had strength
enough to open and close her own eyes. There was one man, one man she recognized.
'Who is he? How do I know him?' She decided she has nothing to lose by asking.
"You remember me, do ya? Well, ya should. Your partner killed me. He murdered my
wife and when he did that I died too. Your filthy partner. And you, you're no better than
the company you keep. Ahhhh! That Hunter! I hate him. I've hated him for years, and
knew that one day I'd get him. Since he killed my wife I figure I'll do the same thing to
you. He'll pay. He'll feel what I felt. He'll know what's it like to lose the woman you
love. I want him to suffer and he will, I promise you that! And you'll also suffer in the
process. That's my plan and look at how well it's working. That's right, Willie Lester
will make him suffer. Now shut up!" With that, he left the room. Camera still rolling.
PART 4
McCall was now top priority. Every available police officer was on this case. It's been
two days and no one has been contacted regarding McCall's whereabouts. There's been
no ransom note, no phone call. But on the third day a videotape arrived addressed to
Hunter. He and Charlie watched the tape in horror. It was edited so that no one in
particular, except McCall, could be recognized. At this point, all they know is that she
had been kidnapped by what appeared to be at least 4 men. They witnessed the torture
McCall was going through and both Hunter and DeVane were dreadfully sickened by
this. Unfortunately, the tape provided no obvious clues.
McCall knew she was being drugged. She guessed that she had been for much longer
than her capture began. The only way it …her coffee! Every day she stopped at
Starbucks. The other man. The other man here is the one who had been behind the
coffee counter. Starbucks Guy and Willie Lester. Two down, two more to go.
McCall realized through the haze that had become her existence, that the tapes were
being switched out at least twice a day. The tapes have to be going to Hunter. She
somehow has to let him know that Willie Lester is behind all this. Surely these men view
the tapes. Surely she would be found out if she simply spoke Lester's name. How can
she let Hunter know? She thought of Mores Code, but realized to her dismay that her
coded message would never come out clear through the videotape. Her mind raced for
answers between horrible pounding headaches. Sign language. She can casually spell
out Willie Lester's name. She'll continually spell it out and therefore, even if the tapes
are edited there's sure to be one full sequence where his name will be clearly spelled out.
"Wait a second. Rewind that part. Look at her hands. Can you get a close up? What's
she trying to say?" asked Hunter.
"I don't know, but it looks like it could be some sort of sign language. Hold
on…Macabe, get in here. You know sign language, right? Is that it?"
"Yeah, give me paper and a pen, she's trying to spell something out. W.I.L.I.L.E.T.S.R.
I think that's what it says."
Hunter looked at the piece of paper Macabe scribbled on for what seemed like hours. He
knew this was the only clue he could count on and it came directly from McCall. 'With
all the pain she's going through she's still sharp as a tack,' Hunter thought with pride.
"Willie Lester! Charlie, it's Willie Lester!" Hunter recounted the story of how his wife
was wanted for murder. Hunter tried to get her to give up her gun, but instead she
pointed it at him and Hunter had fired, killing her instantly. Willie vowed to seek
revenge. "Well, it looks like he has. Get on it."
Hunter felt like he questioned everyone who has ever known Willie Lester. The
informants had indeed been very helpful. Willie had been hanging out with a group of
three. One of which owns a cabin that's not too far from LA. Hunter was sure this is
where McCall has been holed up.
McCall was having trouble keeping her wits about her. It felt like she had been in this
hellhole for weeks, months even, and she had no idea of when, if ever, she'd be free
again. She had spent a great deal of her time in that bed crying. She had thought long
and hard about her life…where it had been and where she hopes to take it. She spent
much time being touched and prodded at by these 4 men. She spent even more time
being sick and wondering if she would ever have another healthy day to live. McCall had
all but given up hope.
Hunter and a squad of police arrived at the cabin. They forced their way in, catching the
men by surprise. Gunfire was exchanged. Only one man was fatally injured and that was
Willie Lester - this was no accident. The fatal shot came from Hunter's gun.
Hunter found McCall still cuffed to the bedposts. McCall thought this was just another
dream. She couldn't quite realize her life was about to begin again. That thought
overwhelmed her as she passed out.
"Physically she will heal," the doctor began. "She's been through a tough deal though.
She's been horribly traumatized. Emotionally…well, that's going to be the hard part.
The healing process will take a very long time."
"Well, time is something we definitely have…and I plan on spending all of mine with
her," Hunter said smiling for the first time in days.