FIRST & foremost... HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARK 'THE UNDERTAKER' CALAWAY. Even though you'll probably never read this or anything I still have to say.. You're amazing, talented, handsome, gifted, sexy as hell, and just all around awesome! We love you, Mark Calaway!
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU: PRINCESSNIA, LIVIN' ON THE EDGE, TAKERSSOULMATE, KEEPER OF OZ, KEPOUROS, PHHSDJ, FIRECRACKER, SWEETENGIMA, SONIB89, MISS BRIANNA, & TANYA2BYOUR21 FOR YOUR YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS!
Chapter Seventeen
If Memory Serves Me
Missing: Thirty-Six Hours
"Where are they? I want to talk to them?" I demanded as I barged in the conference room. Twenty minutes ago I received a call from Detective Phelps, informing me that they had not one eye witness but two. A married couple that had front row seats at Raw the night Ashley went missing. Phelps told me that if I 'behaved' myself then I could come down to the station and talk to the witnesses myself. I agreed to behave (to a point) so Phelps told me to come down and go straight to conference room four. I broke every speed limit and law getting here in record time of seventeen minutes.
Detective Phelps and Johnson both stood up and held up their hands in a we surrender gesture. "Mr. Calaway, please calm down and take a seat."
I shook my head. "I'm as calm as I'm going to get. I want to talk to these people. She's already been gone too damn long."
Phelps nodded. "We know this, but please sit down."
I huffed out an annoyed breath and sat down in an empty chair. That was when I noticed the middle aged couple sitting down in the chair across opposite from me. The man was average height with dark blond hair and brown eyes. His nose was crooked, so at some point it had been broken. His mouth was odd looking and I couldn't quite figure out why. He was wearing an Undertaker t-shirt and black jeans. His companion which I was assuming was his wife was probably younger than him, but she had had a hard life. Her dull brown hair was hanging loose and limp around her shoulders. Her eyes were dull themselves in a dark shade of blue. She had a bigger nose than what fit her face and her mouth was too wide as well. She had wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and they marred her forehead. She too was wearing an Undertaker t-shirt and black jeans. They came showing their support. I'm glad they supported me and my career, but I was too worried about Ashley to seriously appreciate the gesture.
"Mr. Calaway, this is Leon and Michelle Havers."
I shook her hand first and then his. They were trying not to smile, but they were seriously failing. Now I understood why his mouth was odd shaped. His teeth were crooked and one was broke off. It affected the shape of his mouth. How odd.
I nodded at them both, grunting as I did so.
"Go head Mr. and Mrs. Havers and tell Mr. Calaway what you told us." Detective Phelps told the young couple.
They both nodded eagerly, but it was the husband who spoke first. "We were sitting ring side at Raw and we saw your girlfriend."
"Did you see who took her?" I asked.
Mrs. Havers nodded. "We did. He had blond hair and he was average height, but he was definitely taller than your girlfriend. Her name is Ashley Martin, right?" She asked.
I nodded. "How?" I simply questioned.
She smiled. "She's been all over the news, but the pictures she takes are in the magazine with her name beside them. She's really good. So very talented."
I nodded slowly in agreement, slipping off into my thoughts. I had been doing it a lot lately. Slipping off into memories and previous conversations. Those memories kept me busy, better than the reality of what was really happening to her. I was content with the memories I had but I was selfish and I wanted more. More time with her.
*Start Flashback*
"Why a photographer?" I asked.
She laid her fork down gently and swallowed the morsel of food that was in her mouth. "You probably won't like the answer." She replied softly.
I cocked my head in confusion. How wouldn't I? I didn't understand that. "Tell me anyway." I demanded. She frowned. "Please." I added with an annoyed grunt.
She flashed me a grin then grew solemn. "Remember what I told you about my mom?" She asked.
I mentally groaned before nodding. Not her bitch of a mother. If she was involved then who knew how and why Ashley had taken up photography. It probably wasn't good since her mother was a fucking nut case.
"Well by the time I was nine, I knew that I was allergic to mushrooms and I finally figured out that my mom was putting them in my food without my knowledge. So I started fixing my own foods or I would hang out in the kitchen where she fixed my food."
"It got that bad?" I asked, interrupting.
She shrugged. "She only did it about once every six months or so but sometimes when she was feeling particularly sad or depressed, she did it more frequently."
"The hospital never reported this or suspected it?" I questioned, not believing that for a minute.
She gave me a look and rolled her eyes. I could tell she was being playful so I ignored the eye rolling. She then gave me a smile. "I'm getting there. Be patient."
I gave her a half smile and motioned with my hand for her to continue.
"One day she was cheerful. Almost too cheerful I guess because something just didn't feel right, but I ignored it at first. I wasn't feeling well that day so I had pretty much slept most of the day. Later in the afternoon, my mom had brought me a bowl of soup. I almost took a bite, but something told me not to so I refuse to eat it. She got really mad and back handed me."
"Stupid bitch." I muttered under my breath, but Ashley heard me and she giggled.
Our food had been completely forgotten and for a minute I had actually forgotten about the pink twirly skirt she was wearing and that innocent looking white camisole top. Her skin was glowing and flushed a light pink to match her skirt. I credited myself with that flushed glowing look. Great sex would do that.
She nodded at me. "She could be a horrible person but she did try sometimes." I tried to interrupt again, but Ashley stopped me with a small hand over my mouth. "Let me finish, please." She said softly. I nodded before nipping the palm of her hand. She flushed a brighter pink and jerked her hand away. Oh her reactions were priceless. She took a quick drink of her water before continuing. "Within an hour, the left side of my face was completely black and blue and swollen. My eye had also swelled shut. So off to the hospital we went. I didn't want to go, but my cheek was throbbing so I went."
"Even though she had put me in the hospital lots of times, it was technically the first time she had ever really hit me, slapped me. However I guess it was the last straw for the hospital and they called the police. Several police officers came down to the hospital along with a social worker. I had heard a lot of stories about foster care and such from a friend of mine and I didn't want to be taken away from my mother. She needed me. So I lied. I told the officers that I had been sick so I was sleeping a lot and taking medicine for it. I told them I must have been out of it when I rolled over, fell out of bed, and hit my cheek on my night stand. I could tell they didn't believe me but what could they really do. They still had the social worker up their sleeve because the woman came in and told me that she was going to take some pictures of my body. I didn't want to, but I agreed after she explained what the camera did. I had no idea there was a camera that could take pictures of what was hidden."
She took another drink of water, shrugging as she did so. "I knew they wouldn't really find anything, but I was more fascinated by the camera than really caring what the social worker was doing. I asked her if I could see the pictures when she was finished. She agreed to that than started taking the pictures. This large contraption enthralled me and I wanted one. Lucky for me, the whole incident scared my mom so bad that when I asked her for one, she didn't argue. It wasn't the best one but it wasn't a cheap one either. I've been hooked ever since."
"Your mom bought and developed your film without a single protest?" I asked skeptical. That just didn't sound like her mother.
Ashley smiled and slowly shook her head. "No she didn't. She bought me a pack that held twelve rolls of film, but she refused to get any of them developed."
"But someone did, didn't they?"
She nodded. "My best friend's mother. She saw me with the camera one day and asked about seeing the pictures I had taken. She laughed and said, 'every time I've seen you lately you've got that camera glued to your hand and your face. I wanna see some of those pictures.' I told the truth. My mom wouldn't develop them or buy me any more film. She told me to go get my film and off to Wal-Mart we went. She said I had a rare talent and she hoped that I didn't lose sight of it. I never did."
"What did your mom say when you told her you were going into photography?" I asked.
Ashley laughed. "She took credit for it. I never told her the truth."
"You should have."
Ashley nodded. "Maybe but she was a sick woman."
I couldn't have agreed more. Her mother was a sick bitch and had put Ashley through hell, but it only brought out the best in Ashley. Her talent for photography, her passion for it and her stubbornness as well.
*End Flashback*
I felt the shaking first before I heard my name being called. I shook my head and got my eyes to focus on Detective Phelps.
"You okay?" He asked.
I nodded and motioned for the couple to continue. They weren't sure what had happened to me just now. That made three of us because I wasn't sure either. I may not care to chat and talk like my fellow colleagues or friends, but when I was in a conversation, I listened and responded appropriately. Just now, I had completely checked out.
"When the gong sounded, Ms. Martin backed up so her back was against the barricade, making her right next to us. The lights went out but she was still holding up her camera to take pictures." Mr. Havers spoke first.
"She was so talented." Mrs. Havers said again.
Mr. Havers gave a look that clearly said, 'shut up' so Mrs. Havers zipped it tight. Mr. Havers looked back at me. "She was then grabbed from behind. I noticed it because she made a sound that sounded like a grunt or even a moan of pain. This guy had a hold of the bottom of her shirt and he was yanking her back. He spoke in her ear, but I couldn't hear what he said. It was too loud in the arena. She nodded before he dragged her over the barricade and up through the audience."
"She wasn't struggling?" I asked in disbelief.
He shook his head. "She wasn't. I'm sorry, Mr. Undertaker."
I nodded slowly and stood up. There was no way she didn't struggle or make some kind of scene. This Crestfield scared the shit of her; she wouldn't have gone with him anywhere willingly. He threatened her somehow, that I knew but I didn't know how or what with.
I shook hands with them once again, thanking them as I did. I told them to make sure the police detectives had their addresses and I would send them front row seats for next year's Wrestlemania. They were star struck and in awe, but both of them thanked me continuously. I simply nodded and walked out of the police department.
Missing: Forty-Eight Hours
"'Lo." I answered, still half asleep. I should be pissed that the first time I was actually able to fall asleep, I got yanked out by a damn phone call, but I wasn't. For one, they could be calling to inform me that Ashley that had been found. And two the dream I was having was more like a nightmare. Ashley screaming in fear was the only thing I could remember but it was enough for me. I didn't think I would sleep anymore.
"Calaway, we wanted to let you know that we have video footage of him grabbing Ashley." It was Detective Phelps.
I came fully awake and alert instantly. "What video footage?" I asked, already getting up and pulling on clothes. Smelling myself, I immediately yanked them off. I needed a shower. And bad.
"Since a lot of people bring cameras and such to the shows, we asked that anyone with any kind of video or pictures to please bring them forward. One guy finally got around to watching his video footage and what he caught is unbelievable. You need to see it. You can see she says something on camera and we think we know what it is, but we want you to watch it."
"Give me thirty minutes and I'll be there."
I got off the phone and jumped into the shower. As I washed and shampooed, my thoughts went straight back to Ashley and her sweet face.
*Start Flashback*
"Smile." Ashley smiled as she held the camera and focused it on me.
I shook my head. "I'm not smiling, Kitten. Now get that damn camera out of my face." I told her, my voice leaving no room for arguments, but she did.
She shook her head and took a picture. "I'm not putting the camera down until you smile."
I grunted. "Then your arms are going to get tired because you're going to be holding that camera for a long time." I replied with a frown.
She stuck out her tongue and my eyes narrowed as a flare of desire hit me. She snapped the look with a push of a button and I stalked toward her. She giggled as I swung her up in my arms and tossed her onto the bed. She held on to the camera as she bounced and I shook my head.
"Is that camera glued to your hand?" I asked her.
She nodded with a grin. "Yep. I glued it there so I would always have it when I'm around you."
"Why?"
I joined her on the bed. She was lying flat on her back with pillows propping up her head. I stretched out beside her and used my own hand to support my head. Her choice of outfit was one of my Undertaker t-shirts. I liked it. A lot. More than I should probably. One night of her in my bed and I wanted to brand her any way I could. A tattoo would be perfect. Something that said Taker's property, back the fuck off. I doubt that would go over well with Ashley because wanting to put that brand on her wasn't sitting well with me.
She shrugged. "You never smile. I want a picture of you smiling. I would settle for one of your cocky grins." She teased.
I gave her that cocky grin but before she could snap the picture, I covered her mouth with mine. Within minutes, her camera laid forgotten beside us while I brought Ashley to not one screaming orgasm but two. Once we were both completely sated, I collapsed on my back and Ashley climbed on top of me. I was exhausted and wore out, so my head was tilted back and my eyes were shut. I was sure I looked like I had been truly fucked because that's how I felt.
"Taker?" Ashley's soft voice broke into my post-sex thoughts.
"Mmmmm." I replied.
"You look quite satisfied with yourself."
"I just gave you two well-placed screaming orgasms. I think that calls for some cockiness." I replied, giving her my half cocky grin. As soon as I did, I heard the click and whirl of the camera. I opened my eyes to find Ashley giving me her own version of a cocky grin. She was quite satisfied with the little fact that she had just gotten a picture of me with a smile on my face.
*Start Flashback*
I was out of the shower, dried off and dressed in fifteen minutes. If I broke the speed limit, I would make it to the station in less than twenty minutes. If I didn't find Ashley soon, I was going to go crazy left to only thoughts of her. If I hadn't admitted that I loved her then these thoughts of her and my obsession would have probably driven me insane. However in the forty-eight hours, since she's been missing, I've come to discover that yes I love her and that she was mine. She was it for me. That thought actually frightened the shit out of me, but it was Ashley and that alone brought me comfort.
With her and around her, I knew I could be myself. I could be that gruff, hateful, and quiet bastard that most people knew me as. I would never be the romantic type and I would never whisper sweet words of love to Ashley, but I think with time she would know that I loved her. In my own way. I knew she wouldn't put any demands on me either. Especially to be romantic and lovey-dovey and all that shit. She was perfect for me. She may not like it, but I'm sure she would grow to love me.
I made it to the police department in thirteen minutes. I was lucky I wasn't pulled over and arrested. Running eighty-five in a thirty-five zone wasn't exactly law-abiding and definitely not smart.
They wouldn't let me meet the owner of the video footage. Johnson let it slip that the man was kind of obsessed with WWE's new photographer so the camera stays on her a lot. Not meeting him was probably healthy—for his sake. The way I felt at this time, I would have probably killed him. The detectives played it safe and smart.
They sat me down in front of the television and pressed play. The video started as the gong from my entrance music sounded. The focus honed in on Ashley as she leaned against the barricade. The lights went out and although it was dark, the camera zoomed in enough, I could see Ashley clearly. And the man that stepped up behind her. Him I recognized immediately. I had bumped into him in the hotel hall way the night I discovered Ashley had a stalker. Fucking hell, he had been right there and I didn't even know it.
He grabbed her from behind as she was yanked backwards. I saw her mouth move. She said his name, Stan. He said something to her because she shook her head and I saw the fear come over her. Her mouth moved again, 'not him, please'. He said something else and I saw her reply, 'I love him'. Her eyes cut over towards me and where I was coming in. Her look of fear became one of pure terror and I saw her mouth move once more, 'anything'. It was then he yanked her over the barricade and disappeared into the audience.
The detectives stopped the video and silence filled the room. She loved me. I was sure that's who she meant. She meant me. She loved me. I wasn't quite sure what the rest of it meant, but I was thinking that she was protecting me. She never thought of her own safety. Never.
*Start Flashback*
"You've got a lot of pictures of caves." I stated the obvious.
Ashley nodded and handed me another picture. This one too was of a cave. She nodded. "Stan had a thing for caves. My interview with him was in a cave." She said with a small laugh.
I gave her my full attention. I wanted her in my bed, so I did shit I didn't want to do. "How was your interview in a cave?" I asked.
She had been going through mountains of pictures, all wrestling related when I got here. I got bored looking at the faces I see every day so I went exploring. I found a portfolio of hers. Most of it held pictures of caves. Granted they were good, but they were caves. Dull.
"I sent him my resumé and he called me immediately. He told me to bring my favorite camera and my least favorite camera. He then gave me where I was to meet him. He gave me directions to a parking lot and then I had to walk up this trail, to this cave. It was hard, but I did it and it had the most incredible views."
"Why the two cameras?" I asked, keeping my rage caged in. Going to meet a stranger in the middle of nowhere sounded like the beginning of a CSI episode.
"He told me to take pictures with both cameras and if I could get give amazing shots with both cameras then I was meant to be a photographer."
"I'm guessing you did."
She nodded. "I did. He hired me almost immediately. He's a great boss. Easy to get along with."
"Why the cave?"
"Stan loves caves. He has a thing for them. His office walls are filled with pictures of different types of caves and such."
"What if something had happened to you? You shouldn't go off meeting strange men in the middle of no-fucking-where." I bellowed. I didn't know why I gave a shit.
Ashley rolled her eyes. "My best friend was in the car waiting for me with her cell phone. We had parked next to Stan's car. Like he told me to. I brought back up but thank you for worrying."
She got up, kissed my cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. I still thought she was a little ditzy for meeting the man alone, but at least she had brought back up.
*End Flashback*
I shook my head. She was never concerned for her own safety. Meeting a crazed psycho in some caves in the middle of fucking nowhere was just asking for trouble. Okay so she didn't know this man was a psycho at the time, but still, a cave in the middle of no-fucking—
I swallowed hard and stood up. Caves. We were in Charlotte, North Carolina. We were next to the Appalachian Mountains. Mountains that I bet my bank account held caves. In the middle of nowhere. And her ex-boss, her insane psycho stalker was crazy about caves.
"I know where she is."