Four: Key
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She fought it. He did not even know who she was. He could not touch her. She could not convince herself.
He whispered darkly into the phone. "Scared now?"
"Not in the slightest."
He chuckled once more, the horrible tingles spreading through her again.
"That's my girl."
"Why have you not killed her yet?"
"Oh, my. You're very forward aren't you my dear? No matter. Why have I not killed her?" He laughed sadistically. "What would be the fun in killing her right away? The daughter of my enemy will suffer, as I suffered." His voice was rising with anger and passion. "She will scream and she will beg and she will cry for mercy but none with come!" He was screaming into the phone now. "And then, then, when you die – so will she."
"Why do you want to kill me?"
He just laughed. "You must be new. You're so naïve."
She almost spat back a retort, but sensed that he had let his guard down, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"Why do I want to kill you?" He left the question unanswered, floating in the long silence that followed. He finally spoke. "Well, I know you won't get anywhere without a clue, detectives never do, you know."
"That'd be terribly generous of you, Mr Tanner."
"Cory."
"Mr Tanner."
She could tell he was fuming, and wondered if it was wise or not to bait him.
"Feisty, you are. Very well, here's your clue."
Nothing happened, and Sam wondered if he had left. She waited, and waited, unwilling to hang up.
"My dear?"
"Yes, Mr Tanner?"
"How do you like the park?"
The line went dead.
"'How do you like the park?'" Jennie was bemused. "Is that what he said?"
"Yeah."
Jennie, Mick and Sam were heading back to the office. Sam had told the two, who had been standing behind her most of the time, what had happened, and they both seemed confused.
"Well, what does it mean?"
"I don't know."
Sam listened to Jennie and Mick with irritation. Wasn't it obvious? "He wants me to go to the park."
"Why?" the two voices asked.
"Hell of I know. For another clue I guess."
"You want to go now?"
Sam peered out the window. It was getting dark.
"No. I want to go in daylight."
Jennie nodded, looking a little pale. "Good idea."
"I'll meet you at the swings at ten tomorrow."
The others in the car nodded their consent as they arrived back at headquarters.
The next day Sam exited the cab at exactly ten, outside the park gates. She made her way over to the swings. She waited for a while but neither of them showed up. She climbed onto one of the seats and pushed herself off the ground with her feet.
The swing glided through the air as she shut her eyes and let her legs fly with it. She loved the feeling of the swings. She had not been on one for years. It was something she and Matt had always loved to do together.
Her black hair was in its habitual plait, but she longed to release it and let it fly, like she did when she was younger.
She allowed the swing to slow. When it was swinging just the tiniest bit, and her feet were grazing the ground, she suddenly heard a voice from behind her that sounded hauntingly familiar.
"Hello, my dear. Here all alone?"
"Disappointed?"
"Oh, no, on the contrary, this will make my job so much easier."
She stood and turned quickly, backing away from him. He wore black jeans and a navy sweater. His hair was brown, his hands were gloved and his face was covered with a black mask.
"What job would that be?"
"Why, kidnapping you."
"You think I will just let you kidnap me? There are tons of witnesses here anyway."
"Yes, yes, I know. I'm not going to do it yet."
"Oh, by the way – how's your shoulder?"
He sounded shocked. "How did you know about that?"
"I'm a detective, Mr Tanner, it's my job to be able to see these things. You must have been pretty angry with Kathleen when she stabbed you in the shoulder, making you stagger back into that wall. It must have hurt a lot."
He glowered at her. She stared back at him, and finally spoke again.
"Why are we here?"
"Well, don't you want your second clue?"
"I guess I have no choice."
He chuckled. "Perceptive – that's my girl."
"Well, what is it?"
"Patience, my dear, patience. Your friends have it."
He started backing away.
"What?"
He nodded his head in the direction of the jungle gym. Tied to it, upside-down, were Jennie and Mick, gagged and blindfolded, wriggling desperately, their hands and feet tied.
She wheeled back around to face Cory, but he had gone.
Jennie was crying dramatically, and Mick was paler than a ghost and rubbing his wrists blindly.
"You sure you're alright?" He nodded at Sam's enquiry.
Sam made sure neither of them were likely to faint, and that they were not seriously injured, before unfolding the piece of paper that had been taped across Mick's eyes. It had hurt him enormously to get it off.
She read it aloud. "'No. 6. 7.'" The words were followed by a crude sketch of a key in the same red ink as the writing.
They entered the office twenty minutes later, to an excited team. Keith leapt over to Sam, followed a little more sedately by Jake and Alex.
"What happened Samantha? Did you get the clue?" He noticed Jennie's puffy eyes and Mick's bloodied wrists. "What the hell happened to them?"
"Not only did we get a clue, but we ran into Mr Cory Tanner in the flesh."
"Whoa!" Jake's eyes bugged. "What was he like?"
"Dark. He wore a mask."
"Cool."
She frowned at him, and went to sit in his swivel chair that had rolled out into the middle of the floor when he had leaped up. She scooted it in and under his desk, opening the paper on his desk, pushing the jar of lollipops out of the way.
"'No. 6. 7.'"
"They seem to be numbers of something."
She sighed. "Well done Keith."
Alex walked over and put his hand on the desk near the paper. "Building numbers most likely. Apartments, houses, hotel rooms."
"Mm," Jake agreed. "But what does the key mean?"
"Well, you need a key to get through doors to all those places, right?"
Sam shook her head. "No, that's too obvious. The key must mean something. Something to help us solve it."
"Well, what could they be numbers of?"
"Anything. They don't even have to be buildings. They could be anything. Numbers are numbers."
"But why put 'No.' in front?"
"Hm, yeah. They probably are buildings of some sorts' numbers; I'm just looking outside the box here."
Sam had tuned them out. She was staring at the picture of the key. Something was gnawing at the back of her mind, but try as she might, she could not bring it to the fore. A key. Why? What did it mean? Was it a symbol, or a logo for something?
"Well, there's no point hoping the numbers themselves give us an answer. They're too low to be of any help. If they were higher, they would narrow the options."
"So that key must be important."
"Unless he's just trying to confuse us and keep us busy while he kills Miss Allen."
"No." Sam spoke quietly, standing. "He said he won't kill her until he can kill me."
"What!" Jake yelled. "He said what?"
Jennie came up to me, her eyes still a little bloodshot. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"
"I was still processing it."
"Oh, Samantha! That must have terrified you!"
Sam refused to think about it.
"I need a break." She announced. "Can you guys contact the forensics team they sent over, see if they found anything? And keep working on that key. And find out anything you can about our kidnapper." She rubbed her temples. "I need a drink."
And a nap, she added silently, but refused to succumb to the urge to go home and do just that. She had not slept well, Cory's words spinning around in her head.
She left the other five scuttling around the room, closing the door softly, and made her way to the Common Room once more. She downed two cups of water this time, and slumped onto the sofa. She felt her eyelids droop, and could not bring herself to reopen them. Her head fell softly to the side.
"Uh, Miss Manson?"
"Sam." She corrected on a reflex, then cracked open an eye reluctantly to scowl at whoever had disturbed her. It was Danny.
She sat up. "Hi Danny," she greeted, struggling to contain a yawn.
"Sleepy?"
"Hell yeah."
"Lumpy mattress?"
"No. I wish." He sat next to her, looking intrigued.
"What was it then?"
"I got a call yesterday. A woman begged me for help, and then the line went dead. We researched her, found where she lived. When we were there, the kidnapper called and threatened me. He said he would kill her when he kills me."
"Oh."
"Yeah." She grunted, stretching her legs out in front of her. She pulled her long plait round over her shoulder and played with the end of it like she did when she was little.
"That's got to be tough. But don't worry; I know you'll be okay."
"How?"
"Got a feeling."
"How reassuring."
He grinned. "So what are you taking a break from?"
"How do you know I'm taking a break?"
"The nap on the couch was a bit of a giveaway."
"Ah. I met him today."
"Who?"
"Cory Tanner. The kidnapper. At the park. He gave us a clue."
"To what?"
"We think it's to where he's hiding Kathleen Allen."
"But you haven't figured it out yet?"
"No."
"What is it?"
"A piece of paper." She recited the numbers. "And a drawing of a key."
"Like, an old fashioned type of key?"
"Yeah. What other type of key is there?"
"I don't know. A card key?"
"I guess."
"Hey," she looked at him. His tawny eyes looked concerned. "You need to relax. Don't think about it too much and you'll figure it out."
"Thanks, Danny."
"When did I agree to being called Danny?"
"When you refused to be called 'Fentonio'."
"Oh, I see."
Suddenly the kettle clicked and steamed to indicate that it was done.
"That's me," Danny announced, leaping over to it. He poured six mugs of coffee and tea, gathered them all up in his huge hands, and turned to the door. Sam rose and gave him an incredulous look.
"Thirsty?"
He glanced at the mugs, then at her, a grin breaking out on his face. "No, I'm the official drinks-bearer of our unit."
She smiled at him.
"I guess I'll be seeing you a lot down here then."
"I guess so. Goodbye Sam."
"Bye Danny." She turned to throw away the cup, then realized that, again, she had not asked him where he worked. She wheeled around but, once more, he was gone. She sighed. Well, at least she knew that he was in a unit, whichever one it was. He was not a janitor.
She returned to the office in time to be practically tackled by Jennie.
"Sam! Sam! You will never guess what we found!"
"Probably not." Jennie was gripping her shoulders and shaking her, jerking her neck uncomfortably.
"Sam!"
"Yes?" She asked, beginning to get annoyed.
Jennie stopped the shaking, and now Sam noticed that she was actually shaking herself. Something was wrong. "Sam, the red writing on the note? It isn't ink."
ew. REVIEW!!!! constructive critism is, as always, appreciated.
FunkyFish1991 xXx