Murder in the Forest, Chapter Five
Derek Morgan was up early the next morning, still chafed by the memory of the men whom he disliked. He took out his cell phone and called Penelope Garcia. She was in the Eastern time zone, so had been at work for over an hour before her phone rang.
"Hey, Baby Girl," he teased. "How about doing me a favor and looking up some personal info on some deputies here? This is just for me right now, so don't tell Hotch or anyone else. I just need to know if these guys have any bad stuff on their records before we work with them."
"It shall be as requested, O Great Black Elephant," she replied. She was quite unaware that she had in fact used one of the traditional Zulu chiefs' praise names. Blacklaws and van Reenan would have laughed at this, had they overheard. "Tell me of your adventures in the rustic wilds, chocolate dream of all womankind. Have any bears chased JJ yet?"
"Not yet, but the restaurant we went to has some bear rugs and elk and deer heads on the walls. Pretty gross if you ask me, but they didn't, of course. I want to know more about the sheriff here; partly because I don't see any black deputies and I think the other guys I want to check on may be racists. Maybe Ford is, too. But we've done okay so far. We're just getting started; the real work like interviewing victims' families begins today. But I think this Blacklaws jerk I'm going to ask you to investigate may be after Ashley. I'm more worried about him than bears. I mean, those woods are big and there can't be all that many bears, even in Washington state. We probably won't even leave town unless they find another body out in the sticks."
Garcia asked about Bigfoot and was told that this was a ruse used by human killers. "We just have to figure out who," explained Morgan. "That South African biologist guy and his cop pal think there may really be Bigfoots, but even they doubt that one is killing these poor people out here. How are things back in civilization, at Quantico?"
"Laid back and cool," she answered. "I was so stoked by not having Hotch to watch the time that I lingered over cereal and cantaloupe in the cafeteria on break. I'm just catching up on some routine work. Send me some useful questions and I can probably find a way to catch your malfeasant fugitives."
He agreed to ask more questions as soon as any leads developed and they rang off after he told Garcia who he wanted information about. Morgan checked the time and headed for the shower. He needed to meet the team at Hotch's room in an hour and they'd drive to an IHOP (International House of Pancakes) for breakfast, the other restaurant they'd used not opening until lunch. He wondered who he'd be talking to today, probing for any clues as to how someone's loved one had been selected to die...
XXX
Meanwhile, the captive girls had compared notes. As expected, their oppressors had come for Melissa and she'd gotten her outside walk the previous afternoon. They'd uncuffed her wrists before she left her cell and recuffed them behind her and again locked them to her waist chain. They did this before unchaining her leg irons from the ring in the floor. They then made her open her mouth widely and applied a large black ball gag, buckling the leather strap behind her head. Next came a padded leather blindfold that also buckled. Finally, they locked a lighter chain leash on the ring to the black leather collar that she wore on her throat.
Both men wore black cloth hoods to hide their faces. And each was dressed in black, with black boots and they wore pistols. One had a foot long stiff leather strap in his hand and he slapped Melissa across the butt with it and laughed as she jerked and screamed into the gag. The other man fondled her intimately and all there could feel her shame as if she'd spoken it.
Courtney observed and gathered her courage. "Do you two big guys think you can control that poor girl now? I don't know who you are, but the police are bound to be looking for us and you can't get away with this for long. Why are you doing this? Why pick on Melissa and me? We've never done anything to you or anyone else. Why are we here? Is this just about sex? Can't you bastards get girls without kidnapping them and forcing yourselves on them? "
The larger man laughed. "Yeah, it's about sex and maybe about power, too. I'm sure the cops and shrinks would say it's about power, and it is. But we just get off on taking hot bimbos like you two and making you do anything we fancy in our kinkiest fantasies. You'd better watch your mouth, Sweetie. You're due for an introductory whipping soon. How hard it is and how long it lasts depends on your attitude. If you're sweet and submissive and obedient, you can do okay here. Give us trouble and you'll regret it."
"How long are you going to keep us?" Courtney persisted in spite of her fear. "Are you going to kill us, like those other girls in the news? What insane motives must you have? Are you fucking sociopaths who get off on hurting people? "
The smaller man came over and shook his fist at her though the fence. "Shut up, bitch. Watch your language. To answer your question, how long we keep you depends on how well you please us. Those other girls were either not quite pretty enough for longtime slavery here or they were too rebellious. We could break any girl in time and if we thought one was worth it, we'd do that. But the sooner you cooperate, the better your chance of staying alive and not having to be replaced by some other chick that might break easier. The goal is to have two or three babes here to entertain us when we want until we make enough money to leave for greener pastures. We'll probably ransom you in a year or two, but if you've been pleasing and fun to know, we won't kill you. But if you don't do a good job of satisfying us, you could wind up being sold in Mexico instead of being ransomed. Remember that.
"Start thinking of how to do really good sex, and we know that you're a dancer. That's an advantage for you; you can do that to keep us interested. Your pal here is coming along just fine so far. I suggest that you try to be as pleasing. Now, look: we're taking her up for a walk. She'll get rubber shower clogs to wear outside to keep her from getting anything in her feet and we'll lead her around a path where she won't run into anything. If she stumbles, I'll catch her. I like putting my hands on her, anyway.
"When we get back, she'll be up there an hour or so more, pleasing me. Later, we'll bring her back and you can come up after supper and show my friend here what talents you have in bed and in moving to some music for us. Better try hard, honey, or both you and the other slut here will be punished and made to start over. Get the picture?"
Courtney was angry. "We're not sluts, damn you! We're college students. We aren't whores. We don't do what you want, at least not unless it's with some guy we've dated for awhile and really like. We can't just put out like slave girls. Where did you get that fantasy, anyway? This is modern America; not ancient Rome or some Arab prince's fiefdom in a desert halfway across the world!"
"We can discuss this later tonight, when we have you listen to a full briefing about why you're here and what we expect," said the smaller man. "In the meanwhile, start thinking of yourself as belonging to a Roman master or something along those lines and desperate to please. You'll be well served by adopting that mentality. Maybe the other doll here caught on quick because she wants to be an actress. Maybe she sees this as a role or whatever. Now look, the sun will be easing down before too long, and Melissa here has earned some sun and fresh air. We'll see you in a couple of hours. Be thinking of where you stand. No one is looking near here for you and there's no way for the cops to connect you to us. You're totally in our hands Get that through your proud head and think of how to make us find you worthwhile."
"Wait," begged Courtney. "I'm dying of thirst. I think that drug you gave me dehydrated me. May I have some water? Please, sir?"
The man relented and went over to a large box across the room near a refrigerator. He took out a bottle of water and came into her cell and made her kneel and accept the water as he held the bottle. Her wrists were fastened at her navel, so she had no way to manage the plastic bottle on her own. This added to her fury but she tried not to glare at the men. After all, she was responsible not only for her own safety with them, but they'd punish Melissa if she angered them enough!
"Thanks," she said after drinking her fill.
"That's better, baby," said the taller man. "But say, 'thanks, master' from now on. It'll help you to fit into your new life here. I mean that. "
Courtney nodded, and then cast her gaze down, trying not to show her disgrace and anger.
The smaller man locked her fence door and the two captors led Melissa away and helped her up the stairs, her ankle chains dragging and clinking, an ominous sound to the poor girl left behind. Courtney started suddenly, afraid that they'd turn off the light and leave her in darkness. But they didn't, and she heard the door lock and sat down on her mattress to think. But she was so frightened that she had trouble organizing her thoughts.