Chapter 30
Parker
Just like the hatch disguised as a drain, the door was cleverly hidden. The walls were made of cinder block and painted the same industrial gray as the work shed floor. Except that one wall was only painted to look like it was cinder blocks.
It was a good paint job, I had to admit. The shading was there. It must have taken him days to get it just right. The only problem was that the pre-painted shadows didn’t move when I swept the light from my phone over them.
I moved my phone left to right, sweeping over what I was certain was a door, searching for the hidden latch that would open it. I was more sure than ever that the missing woman was behind that door. He had gone through too much trouble disguising everything for it to not be the right place.
Looking at the floor, I could see scuff marks where shoes had moved through the dirt, but no obvious scrapes from a swinging door.
I began sliding my hands over the edges, searching for hinges, but found nothing.
It wasn’t until my fingers caught on something against one side that I put my light closer.
I finally saw what appeared to be a small, hidden handle, again, painted the same color as the wall.
I pressed until the small handle swung up. Pulling it to me did nothing, but pulling it to the side made the door slide into the wall. A fucking pocket door hidden inside a storm shelter, hidden inside a work shed. Motherfucker. The guy was clever.
As soon as the door slid open, the smell hit me, making me want to cover my nose and mouth.
The scent of old blood had seeped into the floor and walls, becoming a part of it.
No amount of scrubbing would ever make it clean.
But it was worse than that, even. There were other smells, ones of bodily waste and something rotten.
It was too dark to make out everything clearly, but the beam of light had already landed on the wall in front of me and the girl chained to it.
Who I was certain had to be Melanie was hanging limply, her hair obscuring her face, but the clothes she wore matched the description Carly had given me.
Turning almost frantically, I searched for a light switch.
I knew Morris would want to be able to see his victims in full light.
There was no way he’d be satisfied with working in the dark.
A monster like him would want to see every reaction as he tortured his victim.
I couldn’t see a typical light switch, but I spotted a wire coming down from the floor above and followed it with my phone until the beam landed on an LED worklight hanging from a hook.
I quickly walked over to it and pressed the switch.
The light was so brilliant, I had to shield my eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness.
I was about to slip my phone back into my pocket when I saw the pictures hanging on the walls.
Every wall except the one Melanie was hanging on was covered with pictures of a beautiful woman with light brown hair and blue eyes.
She was pretty as she smiled at the camera.
Several of the photos were candid, with the woman smiling or laughing.
Some of the photos looked like school portraits taken when she was in high school.
There were also several drawings and paintings.
Someone had been obsessed with the girl. Morris had been obsessed.
There wasn’t much in the room besides a small table that held various tools that, unlike the ones in the shed above us, looked like they had been used quite often.
There was a long rope coiled on a shelf underneath that he used to tie up the women he took.
I would bet it was a rope that could easily be purchased at any hardware store.
In the corner was a sink with a deep basin.
There was a sprayer instead of the typical faucet attached to a long hose.
Under the sink, sitting on a shelf, were bottles of shampoo and conditioner, along with a hairbrush.
I was willing to bet that the hairbrush was full of DNA from every victim he’d murdered. In the center of the floor was a drain.
I used my phone to take a video of the room, turning in a circle slowly, not wanting to waste any more precious time, but wanting to document the space exactly as I had found it in hopes that it would help send him to prison where he belonged.
I finally shoved my phone back into my pocket and rushed over to the woman hanging from the chains.
“Melanie? Melanie, can you hear me?” I shook her shoulder, hoping like hell she was only passed out and not dead.
She was filthy, and I could smell that she had peed on herself while she’d been left hanging for who only knew how long.
She was probably dehydrated, in pain, and needed a hospital urgently.
“Melanie! I’m FBI Special Agent Cherish Parker. Can you hear me?”
I brushed the hair back from her face and saw it was already swollen.
It looked like she’d been punched in the face, and I would bet that was how he knocked her out to get her down in his torture room.
I only hoped he hadn’t dropped her down the hatch to the small space below.
She could have been seriously injured and possibly have broken bones.
She groaned and shifted her head, making me let out a relieved sigh. “Thank god. Come on, Melanie. I need you awake.” I took her hand and stared at the chains, realizing that they had been attached to her wrists by handcuffs. “Holy shit,” I breathed.
I reached for the small pocket on my gun holster.
I always kept a pair of spare handcuff keys there after an incident during training when a few of the trainees had been screwing around.
Someone had been stuck in a pair of handcuffs for hours after swearing they could escape them.
Spoiler alert: they had, in fact, not been able to escape the handcuffs.
I quickly unlocked the first cuff and let her arm drop to her side.
Melanie left out a pained cry. At first, I thought it was just from the pain of her body weight hanging for so long on her shoulder joints until I noticed the awkward angle.
Her arm was either broken or dislocated. I cursed Morris under my breath.
Thankfully, the pain seemed to help her wake up as she began to sob. “Please let me go,” she cried brokenly. Her voice was raspy, likely from screaming for hours as she called for help.
“Melanie, it’s okay. I’m here to help you.” I grabbed her other hand and quickly unlocked that cuff as well, taking care to help her body to the floor as carefully as possible. “Can you hear me?” I swiped her hair back from her face until I could see her eyes.
Melanie blinked slowly as her sobs tapered off to whimpers. “Who are you? Why am I here?” Then she started panicking, trying to scoot away from me. “Don’t hurt me!”
I held up my badge. “Melanie, my name is Cherish Parker. I’m with the FBI. I’m here to get you out of here. Do you understand?”
She stared at my badge, then up at my face. “Is your name really Cherish?”
“Seriously, girl? You’re in a monster’s torture chamber, ready to be rescued, and that’s what you want to know?” I huffed, half amused, half annoyed at my parents. She just blinked up at me. “If I help you, do you think you can stand?”
“I can try,” she said, some inner strength slowly coming back into her eyes.
“Okay, let’s get you on your feet so we can get you out of here, okay?
” Melanie was shaky, and her arm looked swollen and painful, but there was a new determination in her as she managed to keep herself upright.
“Good girl,” I praised. “There’s a ladder you’ll need to climb, but I’m going to help you, okay? ”
She sucked air into her lungs as she fought the pain, but she stayed strong, making me admire her. “Okay, Cherish.” I winced. For some reason, I was okay with the guys saying my first name, but hearing it from anyone else’s mouth was awful.
We took two steps across the floor when a figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. “You’re not going anywhere, bitch.”
Melanie screamed as Morris lunged for me. I shoved her as hard as I could. “Run, Melanie! Call 911!” Morris and I crashed to the floor. The wind was knocked out of me at the impact. Having his body land on me with his full weight had me needing to gasp for air.
Morris climbed off me, reaching for Melanie next as she whimpered, huddled into a protective ball. I scrambled to my knees even as my lungs burned. I wrapped my arms around Morris as he grabbed a handful of her hair. Locking my arms around his waist, I pulled with all my strength.
Melanie cried out as Morris yanked a handful of hair out of her head, but he no longer had a hold of her. “Run!” I yelled. “Melanie, get your ass out of here!”
Using the skills I learned at the academy, I pulled Morris back until he was flailing for balance.
Twisting my body, I got him onto the floor under me.
Before I could use the offensive moves drilled into us during training, his fist came flying at me.
I only had enough time to tilt my head, causing his blow to skate off my jaw instead of taking the full force of the blow.
It still hurt like hell, but a punch from him could have knocked me out.
With my ears ringing, I returned his punch with the back of my elbow into his nose.
He howled in pain as blood immediately spurted, hitting me in the chest. Taking advantage of the situation, I slid behind him.
Before I could lock my arms around his neck in a chokehold, he used his other fist to ram it against my side.
I gasped with the pain of feeling my ribs take the hit. “You fucking bitch. You’re dead!” Morris growled.
Grabbing his arm, I wrapped my legs around his neck and pulled with all my strength. Jerking back sharply, I felt his arm as it dislocated from the arm bar. “Fuck. You. Morris.”
Morris screamed as he reached for his arm, the sound was wet from all the blood still pouring from his nose, sliding down his throat. I still didn’t let go, not until I glanced up to see that Melanie was gone. When Morris had finally stopped struggling, I finally let go and scooted away from him.
I dragged my service weapon from the holster and held it trained on him with steady hands. My chest was heaving from the fight, and my heart was racing so hard my ribs hurt. Or it could have been the blow I’d taken. Regardless, my fucking ribs were screaming.
“Alexander Morris, you are under arrest for the murders of multiple women. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you have to say—”
A shot rang out, making my ears ring. As I winced from the new pain, I watched as blood poured from the hole in Morris’ forehead. I glanced from my gun to the man lying dead in front of me in confusion until I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
SSA Walker stood there staring down at Morris’ body dispassionately, his gun hanging by his side.
“What the fuck,” I mumbled as my hearing slowly came back and the ringing began receding.
“Get up,” SSA Walker said, then turned around and left the room.
By the time I climbed out of the hole in the floor, I was fuming. I turned a furious glare on my supervisor. “Why did you kill him?” I demanded. “I had him subdued.”
SSA Walker didn’t bother trying to explain himself. He simply glanced at me, then walked through the shed. “Come with me.”
I stomped after him. “I need an explanation, SSA Walker! What you did back there goes against every rule we have!” I followed him to the car he’d been allowed to borrow for the duration of our field time.
Once we reached the car, he finally turned to face me.
He stared down at me, his face blank, zero emotion showing as he eyed me.
A sense of dread filled me as warning bells started ringing louder than the gunshot had been.
Tingles of fear ran up my spine, making my hair stand on end.
I took a step back and reached for the gun I had replaced in my holster.
Before I could brush my fingers against the cool metal, SSA Walker reacted.
Faster than I could blink, his fist aimed for my face. Unlike with Morris, I didn’t have time to dodge the blow as it connected with my temple. Stars exploded behind my eyes before my world went dark.