Part 13

Cassy marched into Harry's office, folder of notes in hand. She stopped to briefly evaluate her commanding officer. His eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles surrounded them. His face bore the effects of too many sleepless nights, a whole lot of frustration, and a mountain of guilt. Two days had passed since Tom's disappearance, and they were no closer to finding him. She wasn't looking forward to her daily chat with Frannie. She hated going behind Harry's back, but the captain's wife had convinced her it was for the best. If Cassy had not agreed to give a daily report, Frannie threatened to be on the first flight back Monday night. After taking a deep breath, she began her report. "We've ID'd the John Doe from Tom's apartment."

Harry immediately ceased rummaging through the file on his desk and looked her in the eye. "Okay, this is good. So, what have you got? Someone Tom knew?"

"Missing persons report was filed this morning by the parents. Guy's name was Kyle Simmons. He and Tom were friends in high school. They kept in touch, but weren't very close any more. He was here for a convention. He was supposed to give some big presentation the afternoon he was killed. When he checked in at his hotel, he told the desk clerk that the airline lost his luggage. He said he was going to look up an old friend to borrow a suit and some clothes until his luggage was found. Then he left and never came back. His parents got worried when his boss called trying to locate him after he didn't show for the presentation. They said he and Tom could have been identical twins if not for their faces. The medical and dental records confirmed it was him. The parents are flying in tomorrow to claim the body." Cassy waited for Harry's reaction. Receiving no more than a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment, she took charge. "Harry, when is the last time you ate? Come have dinner with me. I could really use the company."

"Thanks, but I..."

Cassy wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Come on, Harry. Frannie wouldn't let you do this if she was here, and she's not going to like finding you like this when she gets back. She's due home in a few days, isn't she?"

"No! I told her to stay put at her sister's until this maniac is caught. I don't want her anywhere near this until it's safe. She doesn't like it, but she's going along with it for now. As for dinner, I'm not hungry. I have too much to do here to think about eating right now." The determination in his voice was impossible to miss.

Cassy decided that for his own good, it was time to play dirty. "Harry, you won't help Tom by collapsing from hunger and exhaustion. Tom wouldn't want you pushing yourself like this, and you know it. We don't have anything to go on right now. Is your sitting here in this office going to make a lead materialize? I wish it were that simple. I really do. Now, come on. Let's go. They'll call if anything breaks while we're gone." Cassy winced as her words hit home, striking like a physical blow to the captain. She held her breath and waited for his response.

He silently stared off into space, temporarily at a loss for words. He admitted defeat with a deep sigh, and then snapped at her, "All right. But make it quick, will you? I want to get back here." Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he stomped out of his office and headed for the car.

She slowly released the breath she'd been holding and followed him out of the office. "Sure thing, Harry. Nobody wants to find him more than I do."

The janitor never stopped his mopping as his eyes followed the pair all the way to the door. Then he slowly moved to the captain's office, virtually unnoticed by the officers around him.

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Tom turned his head to face the wall, his eyes tightly closed. His thoughts spun out of control, his mind unable to focus on any single line of reason. He was trying desperately to ignore the repulsive excuse for a human being who refused to leave him alone. When Dr. Leonard began to run his hand through Tom's hair, he resisted a strong urge to vomit. The doctor kept pleading for Tom to understand, but his words fell on deaf ears. Tom's heart began to race as the doctor's words finally penetrated the whirlwind in his mind. "...and when Georgie gets back with the stuff, I'll get you cleaned up. Really, you'll feel much better with all of the dirt and grime scrubbed off of you. I'm so happy I get to take care of you. You're the one, you know. The special one."

His fear reached new heights a moment later when Tom heard the door opening. George stepped into the room carrying a small duffel bag. Seeing the doctor hovering over the cot, an evil smirk crept onto his face. "Getting better acquainted, are we?" he sneered. "Doc, go get the rest of the stuff out of the car. I want to talk to our guest, here, in private."

Dr. Leonard turned to face his partner, but remained protectively seated by his patient. "I'm not your errand boy, Georgie."

George erupted at the gesture of defiance. "You WILL do as I say or your friend there will pay for YOUR disobedience!"

The doctor jumped from the cot, practically in tears. "No! Don't hurt him! I'll be good, Georgie, I promise I will! I'll go right now, okay? So you won't hurt him, right Georgie?"

"Just do as I tell you. I said I want some time alone with the prisoner. Now get the stuff from the car and put it in the storeroom."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to hurt him. You promise, Georgie?" Without waiting for an answer, the doctor dashed out of the room like an over-eager child to retrieve the rest of the things from the car.

As the door firmly shut, George walked over to the prisoner and dropped the duffel on the floor next to the chair. The clanking of chains was unmistakable as the bag settled. George stood over Tom, his arms folded and the smirk still on his face. "You and the Doc get properly acquainted? I trust you have no complaints about the quality of care?"

When Tom shut his eyes and remained silent, his captor roughly grabbed the man's injured jaw again. "I thought we went over this before. Speak when you are spoken to!"

Tom managed to rasp out an answer through the knife-like pain. "No. No complaints."

Releasing his hold on the prisoner, George moved to pick up the duffel bag. "By the way, I saw your father today. He doesn't look too good. Not too good at all. That pretty little sister of yours was with him. She's looking much better than the last time I saw her. Such a shame you two have to pay for your father's crime."

Tom's eyes went wide at the realization that Cassy's attacker was here in the room with him. Rage overcame fear, and he furiously pulled at the restraints. "You sick son-of-a-bitch! You're gonna pay for what you did to her!"

George calmly opened the duffel and pulled out a set of manacles and leg irons commonly used to transport prisoners. Dangling them at Tom, he announced, "Can't have you trying to escape on us again. Once I get these on, you can wash up and have a meal." After fastening the leg irons in place, he undid the cuffs on Tom's ankles. He released Tom's wrists from the cot, and brought his arms down to fasten the new restraints. A small cry escaped from Tom as the movement intensified the pain in his shoulder, which already throbbed from his earlier struggles against the handcuffs.

Memories of Cassy flashed in rapid sequence through his mind, fueling his rage. Cassy bound to her bed, bruised and bleeding. Cassy clinging to him, sobbing in the hospital. Cassy's shaking hands unable to even fasten her suitcase. Cassy standing in her kitchen, asking why. His breathing became deep and rapid as Tom's fury at Cassy's assailant grew. Mistaking the captive's reaction as one of pain, George began to fasten the manacles on Tom's wrists. Tom's own voice echoed in his head, " We will get him, though, I swear. I mean it, we WILL get this creep." Gathering all of his strength, Tom reacted, wrapping the new restraints around his captor's neck. Tom pulled as hard as he could, leaving George unable to breathe. Pulling at the chain with one hand, George tried to reach back for Tom with the other. Tom narrowly avoided the man's grasp. Despite nearly losing his grip when they spilled off the cot onto the hard concrete floor, Tom somehow managed to keep up the pressure until he felt George slump into unconsciousness.

His muscles turned to jelly as he bent to retrieve the key to his restraints he'd seen George pocket. He removed the restraints and quickly refastened them on George. Confiscating George's pocketknife and key ring, he cautiously crawled to the door, not yet trusting his legs to hold his weight. Pulling himself upright, he slowly opened the door. As he carefully entered the hallway and found his way to the outside door, he saw no signs of his other captor. His entire body trembled as Tom began trying the keys in the lock one by one, all the while keeping an eye out for the doctor. After a half dozen failed attempts, one of them finally slid into the lock. Cringing at the deafening noise it seemed to make, he turned the key and slowly opened the door.

End Part 13

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