Once Hunted

“Are your parents here?” Riley said.

Guy Lambert shrugged.

“Parents? What parents? Joel and I are on our own here.”

Riley was hardly surprised. The last time she’d been here, she’d suspected that Joel’s parents were out of the picture. What had become of them she couldn’t possibly guess.

“Where’s my daughter?” Riley said.

“Lady, I don’t even know your daughter.”

Riley took a step toward the nearest doorway. Guy Lambert tried to block her way.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to have a search warrant?” he asked.

Riley thrust him aside.

“I’m making the rules right now,” she snarled.

Riley went through the door into a disheveled bedroom. No one was there. She continued through another door into a filthy bathroom, and another door that connected to a second bedroom. Still no one.

She heard a voice call out from the living room.

“Hold it right there!”

She hurried back into the living room.

Now she saw that her partner, Agent Bill Jeffreys, was standing in the front doorway. She had called for his help before she’d left home. Guy Lambert was slumped on the sofa, looking despondent.

“This guy seemed to be heading out,” Bill said. “I just made it clear that he should wait here for you.”

“Where are they?” Riley demanded of Lambert. “Where are your brother and my daughter?”

“I’ve got no idea.”

Riley seized him by the T-shirt and hauled him to his feet.

“Where are your brother and my daughter?” she repeated.

When he said, “I don’t know,” she slammed him against the wall. She heard Bill let out a groan of disapproval. Doubtless he was worried that Riley might get out of control. She didn’t care.

Completely panicked now, Guy Lambert spit out an answer.

“They’re just down on the next block on this street. Thirteen thirty-four.”

Riley released him. Without another word, she stormed out the front door as Bill followed after her.

Riley had her flashlight out and was checking the house numbers. “It’s this way,” she said.

“We’ve got to call for some help,” Bill said.

“We don’t need backup,” Riley called as she ran along the sidewalk.

“That’s not what worries me.” Bill followed her.

In a few moments, Riley stood in the yard of a two-story house. It was broken-down and obviously condemned, with empty lots on either side – a typical “shooting gallery” for heroin users. It reminded her of the house where a sadistic psychopath named Peterson had held her captive. He’d kept her in a cage and tormented her with a propane torch until she’d escaped and blown the place up with his own supply of propane.

For a second, she hesitated, shaken by the memory. But then she reminded herself:

April’s in there.

“Get ready,” she told Bill.

Bill took out his own flashlight and his gun, and they moved together toward the house.

When Riley arrived at the porch, she saw that the windows were boarded up. She had no intention of knocking this time. She didn’t want to give Joel or anyone else who was in there any warning.

She tried the doorknob. It turned. But the door was locked by a deadbolt. She pulled out her gun and fired, blasting the deadbolt away. She turned the knob again and the door fell open.

Even after the darkness outside, her eyes had to adjust as she and Bill stepped into the living room. The only light came from scattered candles. They illuminated a ghastly scene of trash and debris that included empty heroin bags, hypodermics, and other drug paraphernalia. About seven people were visible – two or three of them getting sluggishly to their feet after the racket Riley had made, the rest still lying on the floor or curled up in chairs in a drug-induced stupor. They all looked wasted and ill, and their clothes were filthy and tattered.

Riley holstered her weapon. She clearly didn’t need it – not yet.

“Where’s April?” she yelled. “Where’s Joel Lambert?”

A man who had just stood up said in a foggy voice, “Upstairs.”

With Bill behind her, Riley made her way up the dark stairway, shining the flashlight ahead of her. She could feel the rotting steps giving under her weight. She and Bill stepped into the hallway at the top of the stairs. Three doorways, one of them leading into a vile-smelling bathroom, had been stripped of their doors and were visibly empty. The fourth doorway still had a door, and it was shut.

Riley stepped toward the door. Bill held out his hand to stop her.

“Let me go in first,” he said.

Ignoring him, Riley pushed past him, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Riley’s legs almost gave out from under her at what she saw. April was lying on a bare mattress, murmuring “No, no, no” over and over again. She writhed feebly as Joel Lambert struggled to pull off her clothes. An overweight, homely man stood nearby, waiting for Joel to finish his task. A needle and a spoon lay on the candlelit bed stand.

Riley understood in an instant. Joel had drugged April almost into unconsciousness and was offering her as a sexual favor to this repulsive man – whether for money or some other purpose, Riley didn’t know.

She drew her weapon again and pointed it at Joel. It was all she could do to restrain herself from shooting him right away.

“Back away from her,” she said.

Joel clearly understood her state of mind. He raised his hands and stepped away from the bed.

Indicating the other man, Riley said to Bill, “Cuff this bastard. Take him back to your car. Now you can call for help.”

“Riley, listen to me …” Bill’s voice trailed off.