Chapter 24 #2
He walked to the closest tracks and crouched down to study them. The light from his phone tried to battle against the dark, but it hardly made a dent. His face was inches from the ground, his knees pressed against the hard steel of the tracks, but nothing appeared out of place.
He hurried to the middle tracks, keeping the light trained on the ground.
A scattering of loose pebbles caught against his foot and flew into the dark pit of the track.
He glanced down, noticing the small stones for the first time.
They littered the floor in small clumps, except when broken up and randomly cast around the ground as if carelessly kicked about.
That’s it! The stones.
Graham ran back to the opening of the first tunnel and crouched down to study the stones.
Nothing but small groups with only a couple of loose pebbles thrown here and there.
He stood and ran past the middle tunnel to the last set of tracks.
Leaning down, he lifted the light and his heart pumped wildly against his chest. Stones scattered all around the ground, no groups or small clumps of pebbles lingered undisturbed over the dirt floor. This was it.
Keeping himself in the center of the tracks, he ducked his head and ran in at full speed.
The light bounced around the stone walls, lighting the way down the mouth of the tunnel.
He took it all in. His eyes searched every crevice they landed on, every inch bathed in the soft light of his phone for a sign of where this path would lead him.
He slowed his pace, taking in air to fill his lungs.
His hands fell to his knees and he doubled over, gasping for breath.
A sharp pain jabbed into his side and he straightened to pinch the pain away.
His head fell back and his hands dropped to his sides, the light shooting upward and settling on a vent on the ceiling, an old piece of plywood pushed to its side.
What the hell?
He stretched his hands over his head and ran them along the rusted grates of the vent.
His fingers brushed against the plywood, and it fell to the ground at his feet.
Using the palms of his hands, he pushed up against the vent and it popped out of place.
Standing on his tip toes, he squeezed his arms through the vent and pulled himself up through the tight space.
The sharp edges scraped against his sides and the muscles in his arms screamed as he burrowed through and brought himself through the floor and into an old, deserted room.
Dirt and dust clung to his face and stained his clothes.
The cold air blasted up from the hole he’d just come through, giving a chill to the eerie room.
Gooseflesh danced on his skin and he stepped farther inside.
A large hole took up the far end of the room, but a wooden stage sat proudly in front of it.
Rows of red velvet chairs faced the gaping hole, with aisles leading through the chairs. An old movie theater.
Something shifted on top of the stage, and he ducked down behind the last row of chairs.
His breath caught and his blood pounded so loudly in his ears he was surprised it didn’t bounce around the high ceiling above him.
A beat passed and he lifted his eyes over the seat.
The stage was too far; he couldn’t see what was on it.
Staying low to the ground, he walked on the balls of his feet and moved as quietly as possible toward where the screen must have hung years ago.
The dirty carpet on the aisle muffled his footsteps and he squinted his eyes to see clearer.
A tiny light illuminated the first few rows, along with the stage, but he was still too far away to make out what was up there.
Row by row, inch by inch, he moved closer.
He held his breath, afraid even the whisper of air from his lungs would be heard in the large space.
As he approached the third row, the silhouette on the stage took shape.
His cheeks puffed out as he held his scream trapped inside.
On the stage, huddled together on a blanket, were the three missing girls.
Becca sat in the middle, her arms wrapped around a girl on either side of her.
She held her chin high, and when she caught sight of him, her eyes widened.
He lifted his finger to his lips, but it was too late. A beast of a man sitting in the front row stood and turned toward him.
“Run! He has a gun!” Becca shouted.
Graham stood tall, pointed his gun at the man, and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang loud in the stillness of the room.
The girls shrieked and the man dropped to the ground.
Graham ran up the aisle and paused long enough to make sure the man was dead before leaping onto the stage.
The two girls shrank away from him, and his heart broke, but Becca met his eyes with a defiant sneer. Pride blossomed in his chest.
“I’m with the FBI. I’ve been looking for you three. Is there anyone else here with you?”
Her face softened and tears hovered in her blue eyes.
Dirt caked her round cheeks and her blond hair fell limply past her shoulders.
She shook her head. “He’s been the only one here for a while.
There’s a woman that’s usually here, but she left a while ago.
She said she’d be back soon to take us to a new house.
He was supposed to make sure we didn’t run.
And Pete.” Becca’s face crumbled as she mentioned his name and Graham fought the urge to pull her into his arms. That might scare her right now.
“I already found Pete. He won’t hurt you anymore. Was there ever anyone else? Any other name mentioned in front of you?”
Becca sniffed back a sob and shook her head. The other girls buried their heads in Becca’s side and their little bodies shook from the force of their tears. Even though all the girls were close to the same age, Becca had obviously become their safe place to hide in the last few days.
Dammit. Where the hell is Mickey?
“Okay,” he said and glanced at his phone. No service. “I need to call the police and they will be here soon to help. The man down there is dead, so don’t look at him, okay?”
Becca’s gaze flickered to the floor and then back up to Graham. Her pupils dilated with fear. “Aren’t you staying with us until the police come? What if someone comes back?”
“No one’s coming back. I promise. But, Becca, the woman who was here, she has Mickey. I have to find them.”
“Mickey?” Becca’s voice broke and fat tears slid down her dirty cheeks.
Graham blew out a breath. He couldn’t leave them here. “I want you three to come with me. We’ll walk outside and I’ll call for help. I’ll wait with you until they get here, okay?”
Becca nodded and whispered into the other girls’ ears. All three stood and slowly walked toward him. His blood pumped furiously as they walked down the stairs and he ground the heel of his foot in the ground to keep from kicking the sonofabitch on the floor. “Follow me.”
Turning around, he walked back up the aisle and into what used to be the lobby.
Broken glass littered the floor and beams of moonlight shone in through cracked windows.
He led the way to the front door and kicked it open with his foot.
Fresh air welcomed him outside, and he held the door open for the girls to walk through.
Once the door was closed, he unlocked his phone and called the police.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher’s no-nonsense tone spoke through the phone.
“This is Agent Graham Grassi with the FBI. I’ve found three missing girls who were all taken by Pete Bogart within the last three weeks. The latest being Becca Stanley taken on Sunday morning. I need backup ASAP, as well as their families notified.”
“Okay, Agent Grassi. What is your location?”
That’s a good question.
He turned in a circle and tried to find a street sign or landmark, something to tell him where in the city they were.
The tree-lined streets were quiet, not a pedestrian in sight.
Brick townhouses and mom and pop restaurants came into view and the world shifted under his feet.
Fury tunneled his vision until only one thing stood out in his mind.
Lieutenant Harper’s townhouse.