Page 103 of The Whispering Girls
Katie didn’t know what to believe. “First, if that’s true—and we don’t have any document that says so?—”
“It’s true.”
“It could be true,” said McGaven. “I ran several background checks that I haven’t received yet. John was helping. There might be something here.”
“We’re at a standoff as far as I’m concerned,” she said. Her anger and frustration were growing.
“What do you suggest we do?” said Clark.
“I can only answer for myself and my partner.”
McGaven nodded. “I agree.”
“I will make sure this place is safe with cameras, but that’s where our involvement with you ends. You can continue towork your own investigation under your superior’s orders. There are lives on the line and I’m not going to have another homicide on my watch. I’m going to look around in Jack’s office and personal living quarters,” she said. Everything was located conveniently on the first floor.
McGaven glared at the agent. “I’ll stay up here securing our investigation.”
“It’s going to be light soon.” Katie and Cisco headed down to the first floor.
FORTY-ONE
Sunday 0645 hours
The smells, sounds, and the feeling that was pressed against his skin had a familiarity to it. His head hurt and nausea tried to overcome his body, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was dark, but his instincts knew it was becoming lighter outside. He knew that he was underground and that no one would ever find him.
He was partly alert when he was tossed into the hole—it was a long fall. Before the plunge, he heard two voices. One was apologizing and the other was giving orders. John didn’t know who was who.
Using every muscle he had, John sat up and pressed his back against the cold wall. If he had to guess, it was made of rock and dirt. It was underground and wasn’t extremely cold, though he knew full well that there was snow above.
From the distance of the fall, he was sure he had been thrown down a well—most likely old and abandoned many decades ago. There was no way someone would stumble uponhim, not even the brilliant Katie Scott. His only chance to stay alive was to free himself from his restraints and find a way out.
Pushing his dire predicament and thoughts of dying away from his mind, he rested his thoughts on Katie. Remembering the first day he met her, she hadn’t changed much. Always determined, focused, and willing to do whatever it took to find a killer and protect the innocent. She wore her strengths and weaknesses as a badge of honor. John asked himself, what would Katie do? She would fight, no matter what. He couldn’t fixate on being at the bottom of an old well, he had to keep his attention with one thing at a time.
His wrists were secured behind his back with handcuffs. It was easy freeing yourself from cuffs even without having the key. It was just that it meant physical pain and the chance it might not work the first time.
John’s training as a Navy Seal pushed him to the limits with not only difficult, almost impossible physical tasks, but also pushing his mind to work past anxiety and fear. It had been almost seven years since he was in the military, but all that training had been ingrained in him.
John used his breathing techniques to relax, to be in the moment, breathing in for four seconds, holding for four seconds, and exhaling for four seconds. Focusing on controlling his mind and steadying his pulse, loosening his muscles, and gaining the strength he needed was a challenge but it needed to be done. His thoughts rolled back to Echo Forest, the homicides, working with McGaven, and especially Katie. But mostly, he thought about Katie’s beautiful face, long dark hair, how her eyes crinkled in the corners when she laughed, and her intensity when she was studying a killer’s profile. He’d witnessed her running into the action and going rogue, alone, to protect her family and the people closest to her. She made no excuse for what she did to help John and McGaven because they were her family. Beingaround her and working with her over the past two years, it had been almost heartbreaking to not tell her how he felt about her.
It was time.
John’s shoulder and left leg still hurt from the original fall. Rolling on his right side to give his bruises on the left a break, he managed to work his arms underneath his body and finally bring his hands underneath him—and then out front. There was very little light, but his eyes had become accustomed.
John paused, twisted and turned to retrieve anything from his pockets that could be used to pick the lock. He had a half-size writing pen that he used to make notes in the field. He used it carefully and after about ten minutes, it freed the handcuffs from his wrists. Now he was able to use his hands, fingers, and arms independently. A quick pain was better than the alternative.
With nothing in his pockets, no money, no wallet, no phone, and, unfortunately, no gun, John just had his wits, training, and determination. He braced his back against the well’s wall, and he then pushed himself up to standing. Keeping his hands out front, he determined the space to be about six to seven feet wide.
Breathing hard, due to the lack of enough oxygen, John looked up and could see a faint outline of the morning light. It was a good thing. But he also recognized that the top of the well was more than twenty-five feet away—that was a bad thing.
“Hello! Can anyone hear me?” There was no response and he didn’t expect there to be, but he had to try everything.
He would most likely die of dehydration and lack of food before anyone figured out where he was.
FORTY-TWO
Sunday 0750 hours
The more Katie searched Dr. Jack Thomas’s vet office and his personal area, the more frustrated she became. They needed a plan—a solid one. She had searched the two bedrooms and a smaller one that was Jack’s office. She walked back into the hallway as fear overtook her. It was her usual anxiety and fearfulness, but every minute they waited the more than likely scenario was that John was dead.
