She was in the park with Lindsey, sitting on a bench eating an ice cream cone. The sun was shining, and people surrounding her were enjoying the day; walking with their children through the park, laughing and oblivious to anything else that was going on in the outside world. She turned and looked at her own daughter, smiling as she took a bite out of her cone.
"I wish we could be here forever like this," she said, ruffling her daughter's hair.
Lindsey scrunched her nose. "Mom, I'm not five anymore you know. I wish you wouldn't do that."
Catherine smiled wistfully. "Sorry, I just sometimes wish you were eternally five is all. You were so much easier to please."
"We all have to grow up sometimes Mom," Lindsey said, her face turning serious.
"Well, when did you suddenly become so profound?" Catherine asked teasingly.
Her daughter didn't say anything, opting instead to focus on the swing set in front of her.
Catherine sighed. The distance between her and her daughter had been growing further and further apart as time flew by. She supposed her daughter's rebellious nature came from her, and she was constantly afraid that Lindsey would take the path with the most resistance, like she had done those many years ago.
"I don't know what to do about this," Catherine said, finally breaking the silence that hadfalled between them. Shetossed the remainder of her cone into a nearby trash can. "I'm trying Lindsey. I really am. I don't know what you want from me."
"I want you to be here for me," Lindsey said.
"I'm trying honey, I am. I put in for the day shift position-"
"No, I meant now."
"What?" Catherine asked, startled by the comment. She was there for her now, wasn't she? Lindsey looked her square in the eyes, and Catherine was amazed at the seriousness her daughter radiated.
"You're not here."
"I am here for you Linds," Catherine said, concern etched across her face. It was then that she noticed that everyone in the park had disappeared. Gone were the sounds of laughing children and the birds chirping in the trees. In its place was a stony cold silence. She felt a chill run down her spine and Lindsey looked at her knowingly.
"No can't be Mom. You can't be when you're dead."
Catherine woke abruptly. The sound of the television breaking her from her dream, that was still vivid in her mind's eye. Reality finally set in, and she realized where she was.
Lifting her head up slightly, she noticed Howard sitting on his knees, watching a television that hadn't been there previously. She focused on the table, and noticed grocery bags sitting on top. While she was passed out, he must have gone shopping. She let her head fall back on the pillow, wondering how long she had been sleeping.
The mention of her name on television jarred her from her thoughts, and she lifted her head once more; this time to focus on the television screen that was now flashing a photo of her next to Dulhomme's.
"Catherine Willows has been missing for over two days. Willows played in an intergral part in Dulhomme's conviction The Las Vegas Police Department has refused to speculate as to why Dulhomme may have kidnapped Willows, but inside sources say that revenge may have been a motive."
Howard must have sensed her movement, for he turned around to face her, a warm smile on his face. She couldn't disguise her revulsion at the sight of it.
"They're looking for you."
"They'll find me." Catherine was startled at the hoarseness of her voice.
He ignored her statement and stood, moving to empty the grocery bags that were sitting on the table. He left the television humming in the background.
"I bought us some groceries. You haven't eaten anything. You have to keep your strength up. You should probably drink something as well."
She would need strength; strength to get her out of this predicament. His mention of a drink made her realize that she needed to go to the bathroom - and badly. A majority of the past two days, she had been passed out, unable to relieve herself. Now, she had reached her body's limit.
"Howard, I need to use the bathroom."
He paused while his hand was still in the grocery bag and looked at her.
"Unless you want me to go in this bed," Catherine said, pulling on her handcuffs.
He nodded, and withdrew his knife from the kitchen drawer, as well as the keys to the handcuffs.
"You go into the bathroom and then you come directly out. If you attempt anything, I guarantee that you will not like the consequences," Howard said, indicating the knife.
Catherine, who could barely feel her own arms above her, nodded.
Once assured that she was docile, he uncuffed her from the bed. Her arms tingled at the sensation of blood finally being able to flow. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and tried to stand, finding herself collapsing in the process. The Ketamine must be still in her system, she thought.
Howard lifted her by her waist, bringing her in close proximity to him. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he held her firmly.
"You're still disorientated," he said as if talking to a child. "You need to hold on to me."
She was in no position to argue. Reluctantly, she gripped his waist as he literally carried her to the bathroom door.
She gripped the door as if it were a lifesaver and used it as leverage to keep her up. When she was sure she was steady, she entered the bathroom and began to shut the door when Howard's hand gripped the outside handle.
"You can't be serious," she exclaimed, realizing that he wanted her to keep the door open.
His eyes flitted past her. He assessed the bathroom briefly before removing his hand. She slammed the door shut and stumbled toward the toilet, feeling as if she were going to explode at any given time.
Once she was relieved, she accessed the small room herself. Like she noted previously, there was no window. Just a small tub, a sink and a medicine cabinet. She looked into the tub, seeing only a bar of soap, shampoo and a loofah on a long rope hanging from the shower head. No help there.
After determining that there wasn't a lock on the bathroom door, she turned on the water, hoping the noise would prevent Howard from coming in as she opened the medicine cabinet. Besides a toothbrush and toothpaste, all that wasthere wasa razor and some brand new blades. She considered the blades, but then thought of Howard's knife. She closed the cabinet with a sense of defeat.
Howard opened the door, just as she turned off the water. She eyed the bag in his hand suspiciously.
"I thought you might want to shower," he said as he set the bag on the floor. She peered over it and noticed that it was full of clothes.
"I took the liberty of buying some clothing for you," he smiled, as if he were a kid who brought home a perfect report card and needed praise.
She shook her head and stood back, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm not wearing them Howard." She wasn't going to give into his fantasy.
"Catherine, the way I see it is that you really don't have much of a choice." He placed a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide on the counter. "I thought you might need that to tend to your cuts. We wouldn't want more of them now would we?" His voice remained sugary, but Catherine could sense the underlying threat. She hesitated, her stance faltering. She had talked big before, but she wasn't sure if she could withstand anymore torture.
He took her silence as acceptance. "Good, I'm glad that we have an understanding. Our relationship is a mutual exchange Catherine. You give a little, I give a little. Now I'm going to close the door and allow you some privacy. I will give you 30 minutes to shower and dress. If you are not ready by then - well, it won't come to that point now will it?"
When he finally shut the door Catherine reached into the bag, pulling out a very short, red spaghetti-strapped dress. Underneath the dress, there were lacy undergarments and a variety of makeup and perfumes that Howard must have intended her to use; all still shrink-wrapped and packaged.
She threw the dress back in the bag and turned to face the mirror. She barely recognized the thin, haggard face that stared back at her. She numbly lifted her shirt over her head, wincing at the pain that tracked across her back. She turned backward, and twisted her head over her shoulder to examine the damage. The wounds were still red and raw, a tangible reminder of what Howard could do to her.
She leaned back against the sink and looked at the bag. She knew she had to play into his fantasy. It was the only thing that would keep her alive. But she promised herself one thing. No matter what happened, he would not see her cry. He would not break her. She would die before she allowed him to do that.
