Page 38 of Dangerous Obsession

“On the corner of Murphy and Platner, but I’m tellin’ ya, you should steer clear of there.”

I glance over my shoulder to see them talking quietly to each other. The comment hovers over me like a cloud as I turn down Platner, hoping I’m headed the right direction. There is so much distaste in the world for police and other law enforcement officers; it’s a wonder the city doesn’t erupt into all-out anarchy any second.

With my face turned away from the wind, I head north. The rain lets up a little, but the breeze doesn’t. I feel like my hands are freezing, and I know my feet are. Water squishes up through my socks with each step, even when I don’t step in a puddle. This bone-chilling journey is worth it though, because I know at the end, I will be reunited with my father, who will dote on me and demand answers about where I’ve been. I don’t know what I’ll tell him exactly—maybe the truth—but he won’t care.

Approaching an intersection, I see the sign for the Murphy Street precinct and breathe a sigh of relief. I am steps away from salvation. Nothing horrible happened on my walk except for being rained on, and Leo is in my past again—this time for good.

I hustle across the street and jog up the steps to the entrance. The door is heavy, and it squeaks when I open it. A burst of hot hair blows down on me from overhead as I enter and look around. There aren’t many people in here, a few uniforms at desks with their heads down, focused on work, and one man in a brown sport jacket standing next to a high counter, behind which a woman with curly black hair sits smiling up at him. They look my way and the woman smiles at me too.

“Can I help you?” she asks, tilting her head. “Looks like it’s still raining?”

I nod and shiver as I walk toward her. The water squishing between my toes doesn’t even bother me anymore. “I’m here to turn myself in—” Their faces contort into expressions of curiosity and surprise. “I mean, to let you know I’m okay.”

“What is your name?” the gentleman asks, leaning on the counter. His brow furrows and he grows serious.

“My name is Willow Akers. My father has been looking for me.” The violent shivers don’t stop just because I’m in a warm place. It will take a while for my body to return to its normal temperature, and I have a bit of anxiety too, which always makes me feel cold.

As I say my name, both of them take a deep breath and nod, as if they have busted the case wide open. The woman turns and her fingers click over the keyboard in front of her frantically. She watches the screen with a determined focus, narrowing her eyes. The man pulls his phone from his pocket and does something. I can’t see the screen, but it’s obvious to me that my announcement has sparked some interest.

“Uh, so when can I see my father?” I shift my feet and the sneakers’ soles squeak on the floor.

“Right this way, Willow,” the man says and jerks his head. As we pass through the open office area a few heads turn, but none of them pay much attention. The gentleman calls over his shoulder, “Sally, I’m taking her to Sergeant Baker. Tell the captain to make the call to the fifth precinct that we have her. They’ll want a report.”

“Sure thing, Howie.”

“Howie” leads me down a narrow hallway to a metal door with a name painted on it in black letters. It’s the office of Sergeant Carl Baker, though I’m not sure of the significance of why this particular man needs to see me. Still, I’m in a better, safer place than I have been in weeks, so I don’t care who I have to talk to.

Howie—Howard or Howland maybe—opens the door without knocking and another man, stout and mustached, looks up from his computer. “Carl,” Howie says, stepping aside so I can walk through the door, “this is Willow Akers. Her dad is the one making the fuss up at the fifth. We need to contact missing persons and get her booked in. You take her statement and then take charge of transport.”

“Yes, sir,” Carl says, but there is something sinister in his eyes when he looks at me. Howie backs out of the room, leaving the door open, and I feel tense. Carl stands and eyes me for a second, looking me up and down, and I squirm beneath his gaze. This doesn’t feel safe to me at all. He doesn’t speak; he just buttons his sport coat—gray tweed—and stares at me while he cleans his canine tooth with his tongue.

“Uh, I just want to see my father, please.” I must look disgusting, soggy hair, dripping sweater, muddy shoes. Maybe that is why he’s staring at me like I’m the last person he wants to see, or maybe I’m interrupting his porn habit or something.

“Yeah, well…” He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a weapon. It startles me and I back away, but he snickers. “Relax, babe. Every cop puts their weapon in their drawer while in the office.” Carl holsters his gun on his hip next to where his badge is clipped on his belt in plain view. I take a deep breath and try to relax, but now the hookers’ words are haunting me. They warned me not to come here, but I insisted. But this is a safe place, right?

The man grabs a pair of keys and a cell phone from the drawer too before smirking at me. “Let’s just head down to the fifth precinct and see if we can’t hunt Daddy up.” He nods at the door and moves toward me. I instinctively back away. This man is making me feel uncomfortable.

“What about my statement?” I ask, trying to stall him. I’d feel safer if the other man came back, but when I peek into the hallway, that man is gone. I don’t even see the woman seated at the front desk either.

“I’ll take it on the way. Let’s go.” Carl doesn’t take no for an answer. He hooks his arm around my waist as he passes and forcibly leads me into the hallway then farther into the building. Or I think it’s farther until he opens another gray metal door, this one with an exit sign above it. He thrusts me out into the cold and rain again, and I spin around, ready to pummel him with my fists but I take a hard backhand to the face. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“Ow!” I whimper, covering my eye where he struck me. Thunder claps overhead and I wish I’d have listened to the prostitutes. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“You shoulda stayed wherever he had you hidden. Don’t you know that?” The man grabs my arm and shoves me into the parking lot, herding me like I’m a lost sheep or something toward a row of parked cars. “Gusev is as good as dead. You know that, right? Why’d he keep you so locked up anyway? And have you really been shacking up with him for twelve years without telling your father where you were?”

A chill runs down my spine as he speaks. My eyes dart around searching for a way of escape but there is none. The buildings are connected, surrounding the small parking area. Only one alley leads out to the street, and he’s blocking me from running that way. He is going to kill me, or kidnap me. “Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone help me—”

His hand comes down on my face again, and I try to deflect it with my arms, which only makes him angry. “Stupid bitch,” he grumbles, grabbing a handful of my hair. He drags me toward a black sedan and uses his fob to pop the trunk, in which he shoves me with no remorse.

“He’s going to come for me, you sick bastard.” I’m crying. I don’t even know why.

“Daddy dearest?” He chuckles. “He ain’t coming for you, honey.”

I roll over and try to get to my knees in the trunk. My side hurts from being slammed against the latch hook. I’ll have a bruise from that, maybe rug burn from the carpet in here too.

“I’m talking about Leo. He’ll come and when he does you’ll die too, just like that sick fuck who tried to lay hands on me in the alley.” He kicks my side and I fall down, sucking air into my lungs.

“Yeah, well he’ll get a beating and then he’ll see the boss, just like you. Keep your mouth shut.” Carl slams the trunk shut and I scream again, tears pouring from my eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I am supposed to be going to my father.

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