Chapter 30

Despair

Friday

Chelsea blinked several times after opening heavy eyes. Disorientated, she took in her surroundings. The room was dim and unfamiliar. The goose bumps on her skin suddenly made her aware of the cold.

What happened? Where am I?

She felt something dry and sticky near her lips while her chest throbbed and stung. When she attempted to lift her hand to her face she realised her wrists and ankles were bound.

As she remembered, despair engulfed her. The crazed killer, the one who thought she should know him, had cut her and this was the source of the severe ache. Her mouth and left eye felt swollen where he’d hit her. She glanced down to see her clothes were in tatters and did little to hide her nakedness. Her mind, although cloudy, began to regain its memory, bit by bit. Who was this man? She searched her memory trying to find the answers. Why did he seem vaguely familiar and a complete stranger at the same time?

Then she remembered Charlotte and prayed she was alright.

She’d begun to devise a plan of escape when the man walked into the room.

“Well, you’re finally awake.”

“Can’t we work this out?” Chelsea pleaded urgently. “We could leave together – run away. You don’t have to do this. I can access my trust fund and we can use it to escape.” Chelsea didn’t know what he wanted but she hoped this was it. She had to try everything.

“What, you think we can be together, that this is what I want from you? Didn’t you listen to me? Why would I want to be with you now? It’s far too late for that. Even if that was what I wanted, I’ve killed five people, six including the cop. You are my final mission. I don’t want to spend time with you. I want you to scream in pain. I want to see you suffer and I want to watch you die as I slit your throat.” He snickered. “You’re a spoilt bitch, and soon everybody will know.”

Terror seized her chest and stole her breath. His words echoed in her mind as fear overcame her. Then suddenly she remembered, an image flashed through her mind. She knew who he was. Andrew Smyth. From school! The dirty, scruffy guy who hung out with Wes, before Chelsea and Wes were together. People used to say how similar they looked. “You’re Andrew Smyth.”

His expression changed to betray the truth before he could hide it from her. “Who is Andrew Smyth?”

“You. I recognise you. We were at school together.”

“Very clever, Princess. We did go to school together. So you do remember me. Who would have thought? You always looked down your nose at everyone - such a snob. So beautiful though. Too good for me.”

Chelsea looked at him earnestly. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You really don’t know?”

Chelsea frowned. “No, I honestly don’t.”

“You treated me like I was a nobody, like I was worse than a nobody.”

“I didn’t know you.”

He smirked. “Well you’re about to get to know me much better …” He started to unhook his pants.

Quick, Chelsea. Think of something. “Weren’t you friendly with Wesley Robinson at school?”

He stopped. “Wes? Yeah, you could say we used to be friends. Actually, we were team. He was my cousin”

Was?

He spat out an ironic laugh when she frowned. “You didn’t know Wes was my cousin, did you? Of course you didn’t. He wouldn’t have admitted knowing such low life as me. He became far too good for me. When he met you, he immediately broke off all contact with me because I was never good enough to be around someone like you. Mind you, neither was he, but you probably didn’t know that. If only you knew the truth. We were tight, Wes and me, once. We were family and we were both treated like shit by our families. Our mothers were sisters and they both left us to the mercy our drunken, abusive dads. We suffered in the same way. We were like twins. People said they couldn’t tell us apart. The only real difference between us was that I didn’t get lucky with you and he killed his dad.”

Chelsea gasped. “Wes? I don’t believe you,” she protested.

“Yeah he slit his throat. He called me after and I saw for myself. I visited him every week while he was in juvie. Then after he got out and met you, I never heard from him again. That is how he repaid me for my loyalty to him, for our years and years of friendship. For our love for each other. That is what you spoilt bitches do. You tear people apart for your own amusement, and you don’t give a shit. You even enjoy it. It’s all about you, isn’t it? There is nothing in the world of a spoilt bitch other than her. You get everything you want at the expense of others.”

Chelsea couldn’t believe it. All her composure fell away. She couldn’t believe this man’s hatred, his twisted mind. She screamed and fought against her bindings.

Andrew grinned wickedly. “So there was Wes, my best friend, my cousin, my world, and along you came. With your beauty, your fancy rich world and that was it. No more Wes. Wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I soon got the message. But then I decided it was time to send some messages of my own so I let him know our friendship was really over.” Andrew’s mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “I slit his throat. That was fitting, wasn’t it?”

Chelsea’s heart nearly stopped and her eyes stung with tears. Wes was dead? He hadn’t left her? This maniac had taken away her love, for what? Because he was jealous? Because he resented Wes’ happiness and that he might for once be able to enjoy the good things in life, the things her family had worked hard for and were willing to share with the people they loved, no matter who they were? He had destroyed her life once and now planned to do so again.

She shook her head desperately trying to shake the memories of Wes out of it. She couldn’t mourn him now. She had to think clearly.

“How could you do it?” she whispered.

Andrew laughed. “He begged me not to do it, said he loved you. Well, that wasn’t a reason to spare him, was it? But it was a reason to kill him, and to kill the one who started it all, the person who took him away from me, who deserved to suffer for what you had done. You’re just like my mum. You take exactly what you want, then you toss everything else aside like worthless trash. You’d have tossed Wes aside one day too, but it would have been too late for me. Nobody betrays me like that and nobody treats me the way you did. He needed to die and you needed to suffer.”

Chelsea shook her head in disbelief.

“So I invited him over for old times’ sake. All he could talk about was you and how cool it was that he had his life together and that he would be marrying into money. He was so surprised when I cut him.”

Chelsea screamed and shook her head even more violently to rid herself of every memory, of every thought, of every part of this horror. She needed a clear head to get away from this animal. She wished again that she wasn’t bound so she could block her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more but he kept going anyway.

“They never found his body. They’ll find yours, though, but they won’t find me. Oh, I will enjoy watching every last drop of your blood spilling, you spoilt bitch.”

Oh god, Wes ... Lucas, I need you …. Thinking about what happened to Wes, and remembering Lucas, was almost too much to endure.

“When the fun of watching you cry over Wes wore off, it was time for you to die, so I started practicing, to get it just right. Seeing the terror in their eyes, watching their blood spill and hearing their last breath was like sweet medicine to my soul. I enjoyed cutting those other girls as I thought about you. Now you are my last, Chelsea. My ultimate prize. It has been worth the wait. Soon, you too, will taste the feeling of nothingness.”

He continued to undo his pants and Chelsea braced herself for what was to follow, when she heard a knock on the front door.

Andrew looked up alert and tense. “Don’t make a sound or whoever it is gets it,” he said to her with threatening look and removed the gun from the waistband of his pants. He disappeared out the room.

Didn’t he say if I yelled no-one would hear me? Should I try?

Confusion reigned. If she called out would she be putting someone in jeopardy? Was she willing to take the chance, to save her own life at the risk to another?

* * *

Andrew peered through the peephole and saw two detectives standing at the door, one of them the bitch’s lover. So you think you have found me? Well think again. Chad Wilson lives here, not Andrew or Wesley, for that matter. I bet you are looking for Wesley. I shall be very disappointed if you aren’t. I knew eventually you would find out about his record and assume it was him. Exactly what I wanted, I will get away with murder and you will continue to look for a dead man. He caught a glimpse of Hudson as he ventured down the side of the house and around the back. Look all you like, you won’t see anything. After a several minutes he watched them leave. Now I can finish what I started.

* * *

“Your boyfriend was here but he’s gone now. No-one is going to save you,” Andrew said when he returned. “Time to hear you scream again.”

Two emotions raged through Chelsea: relief because he wasn’t going to rape her and fear regarding the pain she was about to endure again. She didn’t know which one was winning.

When he took out his knife, fear won.

Lucas …..I love you ... If only I could see you one last time ... Wes ….

She tried to block out the pain. It was excruciating and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it. She screamed again, from the pain, from the anger, for Wesley and, most of all, at the thought of never seeing her loved ones again. She could feel the blood streaming from the incision in her chest and, for a slight moment, hoped she would bleed out and the nightmare would be over. He stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wound as her emotions switched between relief and despair. He then left her alone without saying another word.

Lucas ... come back.

If he came once, he might come back. Lucas was thorough and would not give up. Something led him here, maybe it would again. She needed to hope, it was all she had left. Andrew wasn’t going to see reason. If someone didn’t find her soon she was going to die here.

Hours passed and the pain from her wounds dissipated whilst her desolation overwhelmed her. There was no escape.

Later that day – at least she presumed it was the same day - she heard another knock on the door. She yelled out until she was hoarse but the knocking soon stopped and whoever it was went away again. She possessed no clue as to the time or how much of it had gone passed. Her mouth was so parched and her throat hurt when she swallowed. All she could do was think and hope. She thought about his beautiful amber eyes, his sexy smile, his passion and tenderness while tears rolled down her face. She screamed in frustration. Regardless of the uselessness of it, she screamed for help again. Endless minutes passed. Her yelling became a squeak as her voice finally gave out. Her wrists began to bleed again from pulling relentlessly at her bindings.

Chelsea lost all hope of ever being found alive. Hot tears slid down her cheeks and her croaky sobs filled the empty room. Goodbye, my love.

* * *

“It’s getting late and there isn’t much else we can do tonight. I’m going home so I can get an early start in the morning. Perhaps you should do the same,” Maggie said after hours of fruitless scouring of files and interviews.

“I’m just going to go through everything one more time. I think we’re missing something. I can’t just sit around at home. I have to find her.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Oh God, Chelsea, where are you? What is he doing to you? I can’t lose you too.

Lucas read through every report and interview on file. He called the techs working on the stolen car and advised them to run any fingerprints found against Wesley Robinson’s - now accessible since his file had been re-opened. He cursed when he saw, due to the age of the case, that there was no DNA from Robinson’s juvenile record. They would have nothing to check the hairs that had been found against unless they found Wesley. Even if they had a comparison it wouldn’t tell them where he was but at least they would know if they were looking in the right place. Now he had nothing to check to be sure.

While reading through the files for what felt like the hundredth time, one of the techs arrived with the results from the car. Plenty of fingerprints but none of them were Wesley’s. Was it even the kidnapper’s car or had he been wearing gloves?

As the night progressed and each minute passed, his despondency grew. What was he missing? His gut told him the house across from Chelsea could be where he was holding her but he couldn’t bust in there on instinct alone. He needed a reason and at the moment he didn’t have one. All he had were dead ends and his despair. According to the neighbour, he wasn’t blond. Could he be wearing a disguise? He was, after all, using a different name? Anything was possible, but it wasn’t enough to obtain a warrant or to enter the house. His hands were tied. A dark haired man who kept to himself who lived across the road from Chelsea hadn’t answered the door. No probable cause there. He checked his phone for the hundredth time, urging the detectives watching the house to call. Lucas contemplated waiting there himself but knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kicking down the door. He could barely contain the urge now.

Returning his attention to the files in front of him, he searched them again, looking for something, anything that could give them a clue, a reason to charge in there.

I know she’s there. I can feel it. Forget the job. I have to know.

If he didn’t check, he was going to lose his mind. He swiftly stood up, ready to charge into the suspect house, consequences be damned.

Captain Shaw intercepted Lucas as he strode towards the exit.

“Where you off to, Hudson?” he boomed. “Have you found a lead?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You’re going alone?’

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re not going to do anything to jeopardise your career are you, Detective?”

“Um, I would prefer not to answer that.”

“I am aware of what is happening with this case, Hudson. I realise you have a hunch about where the perp may be but I’m advising you strongly to follow procedure.”

“He’s going to kill her!”

“Give it one more night, Lucas. We have men on the house and they will keep trying. If they don’t get lucky, well it’s up to you then.”

“I can’t give it one more night. Do you know what he did to those other girls?”

“Of course I do. If I have to, I’ll take you off the case then if you go there tonight you will be doing more than breaking procedure. I’m doing this for you, Lucas. You’re one of my best men and I would hate to see you go because you lost your head. If this were a different girl you would wait.”

“It’s not a different girl.”

“I know, but please just wait.”

“Ah fuck it all!” He stormed out of the precinct.

* * *

Charlotte opened her eyes to see her whole family by her bedside. Harold, Bradley and Hayden had driven down first thing that morning and had been sitting vigil by her bedside since they’d arrived.

Her Pa was snoozing in a chair in the corner and her parents were sitting either side of her. Hayden was sitting in the opposite corner looking downcast and miserable.

“Where’s Chelsea?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, honey, there’s been no news yet,” said Sarah, her voice filled with distress.

“Mum, Dad, what will we do without Chelsea?”

“Lucas will find her. You have to believe that, Charlotte” Sarah said.

* * *

Carrie was just about to go to bed when there was a soft knock at the door. She opened it to find her brother looking worse than she’d ever seen him and still wearing the same clothes from when she’d brought him home the night before. He appeared haggard, unshaven and dishevelled. His expression was the worst of all and it broke her heart. His torment was apparent in every feature.

“Oh, Lucas, honey.”

He walked in, sat on the couch and put his head in his hands before groaning in anguish.

“I might know where she is,” he said through his hands, “but due to fucking procedure I can’t go in because if I do and we catch him, he could get away with it. I almost went there tonight anyway at the risk of ruining this case and my career. I still want to ... I don’t care about my job, my life ... if she ...”

“Is she worth losing everything for?”

“Yes and the thought of life without her … I just can’t ....”

There was nothing she could say to him to make it better, so she did exactly what she had done the night before. She held him.