Chapter 29

David sat in a busy office as he waited to see the police officer who was in charge of Abby's case. He had been waiting for five minutes already, and was starting to grow impatient. He had his jacket in his hand, folded neatly. It was his favourite jacket. Genviéve had loved it the second she saw it, and so it quickly went higher up his 'best apparel' list. He decided to put it on, and as he did so his nose caught a whiff of his wife's fragrance. It wasn't very strong, but it was unmistakable. It must have been laced with her scent when he comforted her the previous night. It was a wonderful scent; a familiar scent. Mr. Lincoln began to quietly tap his foot against the ground as he looked around the vast hall at some of the officers dealing with paperwork at their desks as his mind jumped two and a half decades into the past.

After he had found his girl with his best friend, David did nothing but concentrate on his course work. To hell with those two, he had thought. He made sure to stay away from where they used to frequent. If he ever saw them again, it would be too soon. Thankfully he only had two more semesters to go, and then he could begin his internship at a hospital of his choosing. Young Lincoln knew once he left that damned campus it would be so much easier to forget about the betrayal.

About a month after the incident David had been standing in line at the campus cafeteria at the beginning of a new semester as he waited to buy his lunch. That day the line was unusually long because the service was slow. There were about twenty students standing ahead of him, and there were many more behind him. He moved to the side slightly so he could see what the hold up was at the counter. He could see that the cashier seemed a bit clueless about the workings of his cash register, and he was being given the know how by a more experienced work study student.

David let out a frustrated sigh and run his hand through his curly hair, spoiling the small fro he had tried so hard to shape earlier. The student standing directly in front of him turned around to face him as he got back into line. She was a bit more than a head shorter than him, with a petite figure. She wore big silver loops in her ears and had a purple scarf wrapped around her head like an Alice band, her thick dark wavy hair held back and falling over it to just above her shoulders. She looked up at him with wide intelligent dark brown eyes, and he suddenly felt self conscious under her gaze. He smiled shyly and looked away from her at the students who were seated and enjoying their lunch.

"Excuse me?" the mocha skinned girl said to him, and he turned his head to look down at her. "Would you mind holding this space for me? I really need to…go somewhere," she added as she said the last few words rather hesitantly.

"Uh," he looked at the length of the line before them. "Sure," he said slowly in his baritone voice when he felt she would be back before her turn. She smiled gratefully and left the line as she went towards the exit of the cafeteria only to turn into the restrooms.

Wow, David thought as he watched her go. She was a really pretty girl. He had never seen her before. "Must be a freshman," he said under his breath as he took a step forward, the line making some slight progress. He never recognized the freshmen. Chuck, he was something else. He always knew them, the girls anyway. He would even know if they had joined in the spring, summer or fall semester. But Dave never had the interest to know the new ladies. He only had eyes for one lady. Too bad it didn't work out with her, he thought bitterly.

A couple of minutes later the female student returned. "Thank you," she said nasally with a smile as she got back into line. Dave smiled and nodded slightly. He didn't trust himself to speak. He had always been kind of shy around the ladies anyway. But wow, she has a really sexy accent. What is she, French? He nodded to himself. Yeah, probably French.

David Lincoln was brought out of his reverie by a tall, lean Caucasian man dressed in a navy blue uniform with three inverted chevrons displayed across his chest. He wore his ginger hair closely cropped. In his right hand he carried a folder which he transferred to his left so that he could extend his hand in greeting. "Mr. Lincoln?" he asked with his brow arched.

"Yes," Dave said as he shook the man's hand.

"I'm Sergeant Brady. Please come with me," the policeman instructed as he went towards his desk. He then gestured for David to sit as he walked around his desk and took his own seat. "First of all I'd like to say that I am very sorry about your daughter. I can assure you that we are doing everything in our power to find her."

Nodding, Dave thanked him. "But," he asked, "why were we not informed about the kidnapping as soon as it happened? My wife had to find out from my daughter's friends."

Gesticulating wildly, the police officer apologised. "I am sorry. The officer who questioned the gunshot victim is a rookie. I suppose in his eagerness to work on the case and find your daughter, he must have overlooked that step." He looked sincerely contrite. He cleared his desk of the messy papers as best he could while the secretary brought him his coffee. "Thanks Marge," he said as she put it in a vacant spot on his desk.

He then removed two papers from the folder he had been carrying earlier and handed them to Mr. Lincoln. As David looked at them he saw the image of a young biracial boy. He figured the boy must be about nineteen/twenty years old. The other paper had an image of the same boy, but it was a sketch and the boy looked older. Dave lifted his gaze to the cop expectantly.

"That is the guy who kidnapped your Abigail. My officers questioned his mom yesterday. She doesn't know where he is. She said he had moved house recently, but she doesn't know where to –"

"How is that possible?" David asked with slight agitation. "How can his own mother not know where he is?"

Sergeant Brady raised his hands in sympathy. "The fellow has been trouble for a long time. Dealing drugs and suspected of running a prostitution ring. He's someone who would not like his whereabouts known," he said as he scratched the nape of his neck. Pointing at the papers in Mr. Lincoln's hands, he added, "That was the latest photograph she had of her son. The other is a sketch drawn from descriptions given by his family. We are going to distribute those images to the TV networks in hopes that someone may have seen him."

Rising slightly from his chair, David removed his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a passport sized photo of Abby. "Here," he said as he handed the photo to Brady, "this is Abby. Could you put this on the air as well?"

"Of course."

With nothing more to discuss, Mr. Lincoln left, feeling certain that the cops were definitely handling his daughter's disappearance with priority.

xxx

"I need to go to the bathroom," Abby said vilely.

Kensei scoffed. "Don't be like that," he said in reference to her not-so-homey attitude. He walked to her and uncuffed her wrist. "Don't be long, or your breakfast will get cold."

She gave him a brief glance before heading for the bathroom. She shut the door behind her without bothering to lock the door, for she had learnt from previous experience that there was no key. She guessed that it was just in case she decided to lock herself in and scream to high heaven for help. After relieving herself and flushing the toilet, she put down the seat cover and sat on it. She needed to find a way out of the damned house. She looked around the room for anything that could be of use. She raised her gaze to the windows above her through which sunlight was pouring in. If she could find something to climb she could have reached their level and broken them and then she could be free. But as she continued to look up at them she realized that there were security bars on the outside. "Argh, man," she said in annoyance when her best idea went up in smoke.

There was a sudden impatient knock on the door. "Abby, don't make me come in there!"

"I'm coming!" she called back. She walked to the sink and washed her hands and then her face. She sighed. This was day two and she was no closer to escaping or even knowing where the hell she was. She hadn't had the opportunity to get close to a window and look outside. Last night Kensei had not left her alone. Instead of sleeping in his room he brought a mattress and his blankets to the living room where he slept as she tried to do the same with the discomfort of having her arm chained to the wall.

The door was opened roughly, bringing Abby's thoughts back to the present. Kensei did not look happy. "Get out here!" he ordered. She walked past him and headed slowly into the living room; her room of residence.

"What are you gonna do with me?" she asked. "I mean, what do you hope to accomplish? You realize that the cops must be out looking for me, right?" When he did not respond, she did not press him. She looked at the meal on the table. It smelt great, and she was hungry. He had made fried eggs, toast and had served baked beans. There was tea as well. Abby could not remember the last time she had drunk tea. Coffee was always her beverage of choice.

Kensei then grabbed her by the arm and led her back to the chaise lounge so that he could chain her up. "Hey hey hey," she protested. "Seriously, you're gonna chain me up again? How I'm I supposed to eat?"

"Didn't stop you yesterday," he said brazenly.

She sighed and gave him a pleading look. "Please? I'd enjoy the meal better…" she trailed off.

"Fine," he replied and pushed her down on the lounge before pushing the table closer to her. He sat opposite her on the floor as they partook of their breakfast. Abby took her time as she savoured the meal. She slowly looked around the room. That had been the longest that she had been uncuffed since she got there. If she could just find something to use as a weapon against him…

"Do you like your breakfast?" he asked when he saw the distant look in her eyes.

She was startled by his sudden question. "Yes," she said as she nodded vigorously. She then turned her attention to the TV in front of them. It was tuned to a local station that was broadcasting its morning news show. When it went to a commercial, Kensei rose from the floor and stretched his limbs to get rid of the slight cramp in his legs.

"Want some juice?" he asked with a cocked brow. Abby nodded again, and he took their used plates to the kitchen where he placed them into the sink. He walked to the fridge and removed a packet of orange juice. Just as he was about to get a glass from the cabinet, his cell phone began to ring. He had forgotten it in his room the previous night.

As he disappeared into the corridor, Abby, who had been discreetly watching him the whole time quickly got to her feet and ran quietly into the kitchen. She unsheathed a knife from its wooden stand and then peeped into the corridor. She could hear Kensei talking into the phone. She ran to the front door and tried to unlock the door. There were three dead bolts that she had to turn, and she did so at an agonizingly slow pace so that they did not make a sound. Her heart was in her throat. If Kensei came back into the room before she had escaped she knew there'd be hell to pay.

One! Ok, she moved her hand to the next one, her heart hammering in her ears. Two! She could no longer hear her captor speaking. He must have hang up. Abby's breath was coming in short spurts as adrenaline raced throughout her system. She worked on the last dead bolt, and she quickly stole a glance at the corridor. She could see a shadow approaching. Her eyes grew wide and she swallowed nervously. Three! Yes! Now she just needed to turn the key of the final lock. She did so quickly with a shaky and sweaty hand. It made a slight noise, and she held the knife in her hand tighter as she brought the other hand to the handle. She turned it briskly. This time it didn't matter if it made any noise or not.

She opened the door and her legs sprang to action. She would run with everything in her. As she took her first great intake of fresh air, she crossed the threshold and came to an abrupt stop. Directly before her stood sturdy a black Doberman whose ears were tipped in her direction. It was watching her intently as it made a bare display of teeth. It began to make a deep low growl, but it did not advance. Abby was well aware that a Doberman was not the type of dog to mess around with. It could be very unpredictable. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings as she wondered how she could possibly get around it. Her heart was now beyond her throat, more like in her mouth. She felt like she was about to vomit, and her whole body was shaking out of fear. She was so frightened that she did not even hear Kensei approach her.

He grabbed her weapon hand and held onto her wrist tightly. With that kind of hold on her she could not attack him with the knife. He roughly dispossessed her of the weapon and dragged her back into the house savagely. He banged the door shut and she looked up at him. His face was contorted in anger, and she knew that that was it. The end had come. Her best chance to escape was blown.

"Where the FUCK did you think you were going, you BITCH!" Abby received a heavy backhanded slap that sent her crashing into the wall. The swollen cut on her head collided with the wall, and she let out a loud cry as Kensei pinned her to the wall, his hand tight around her neck. The pain that seared through her body felt like a ten thousand volt electric shock. Her tears flowed freely as her head throbbed like a hammer against an anvil.

He brought the knife to her throat with the other hand and pressed it into her neck. He steadily applied pressure until beads of blood seeped through the delicate skin. As if the sight of her escaping blood brought the devil out of him, he suddenly dropped the knife which fell with a clatter next to their feet. He swallowed as an unfamiliar emotion gripped him. What had he done? He pulled her over to the chaise lounge with slightly less violence than before and threw her down. He cuffed her arm and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. He tied it across a mouth so that she could not speak, the knot very tight at the nape of her neck.

"You stay here," he said gruffly. "I've got some business to take care of."