9:45 AM
Tyler Kimble knelt in front of the Playstation console, jiggling the cords extending from the back of the machine. When this didn't achieve the desired result, he looked up at the two boys standing next to him and said, "Well, the speaker is officially fried, guys."
"Crap, there's no way to play this game without the sound," his friend Seth grumbled. "So now what are we supposed to do?"
Before Tyler could respond, another voice spoke from behind them, "Well, since your epic adventure seems to be on hold, maybe you can go get my leaf blower."
Tyler turned to see his father, Lee, standing in the kitchen doorway, looking at him expectantly. "Get it from where?" he inquired.
"Your uncle borrowed it a couple of weeks ago, so I'm guessing that it's most likely in his garage," Lee replied. "So if you could go pick it up while I work on that broken storm window in the den, I can get everything done before I take your mother out this evening."
"Oh yeah, I forgot it was Valentine's Day," Tyler said. "Yeah, I guess I can go get it. Did you call him to find out for sure where it is?"
"No, he's working today, so there's no need to bug him with that. He doesn't mind you going over there, you know that."
"Hey, didn't I hear him say something awhile back about having an old boombox that you could have?" Seth interjected, jerking a thumb in the direction of the third boy in the room. "Maybe if we pick that up, too, Mike here could rig it to your Playstation so we could actually hear. That's his thing, y'know."
"Worth a try, I guess," Tyler replied. "But if we're picking up that and the blower, I'm gonna need the Sedona, Dad. I don't think all three of us will fit in Seth's Bug with that stuff along."
Lee reached into his pocket and pulled out a keyring, tossing it toward his son. "Think fast, Ty!"
Tyler caught the keys, and as he moved to shove them into his pocket, he caught a glimpse of his grandfather seated at the table, staring rather morosely out the kitchen window. This worried the teen, because Martin Kimble was usually a cheerful, easygoing old man, but there had been an incident that morning at breakfast that had startled everyone, so he turned back to his father and questioned, "Dad, is Gramps really okay? He just seemed really freaked out this morning when he was reading the paper. Does he know that lady or something?"
Lee paused briefly before responding, but finally said, "No, he doesn't know her, to the best of my knowledge. The thing is, she looks a lot like... Well, somebody we knew a long time ago, and I think it just brought back some old memories. Don't worry, he'll be fine."
"Okay, Dad, if you say so. C'mon, guys, lets get over to Coach's house and get that stuff. Then we can come back and maybe I can finally kick your butts on Playstation."
The three boys hurtled out to the garage, and as the door closed, Lee Kimble chuckled to hear Mike respond, "Not gonna happen, Ty. I've got a system figured out, so I'll be the one mopping up with you and Seth."
They clambered into the van, and pulled away from the house, leaving Seth's old Volkswagen parked in front of the Kimble house. Ty maneuvered through the suburban streets for nearly twenty minutes, then turned onto a quiet, tree-lined street, pulling into the driveway of a well-kept pale gray house, with a large chimney of darker gray river stones dominating the front of the dwelling. They piled out of the van and Tyler sorted through the keys until he found the one he wanted, inserting it into the keyhole and opening the door.
The boys stepped inside, and his friends looked around, impressed. "Wow, nice setup!" Mike exclaimed, looking at the massive flatscreen TV mounted on the wall, and the extensive stereo system.
"That's for sure!" Seth agreed. "I didn't know his job paid this well!"
"It doesn't exactly, he has investments," Tyler clarified. "He's good with numbers and stuff, he gave Dad a few tips, which he said helped bulk up my college account, and Tracy's, too. But let's hurry up and find the leaf blower, then we can go dig up that boombox and see if McGyver here can make it work."
He led them through the dining room and kitchen, and into the garage, where they immediately spotted the leaf blower resting on a shelf near the back wall. As he picked it up, Seth ambled over to stand next to him, and remarked, "Next time you talk to Coach, you might wanna tell him to check on his power tools here, cause something has one hell of a leak."
Tyler gave him a puzzled look, and Seth pointed to a spot on the cement floor, at the corner of the shelving unit, drawing his friends attention to a dark, flaky-looking stain. "Right there. Something on here has been gushing oil, or transmission fluid, or whatever they use in this stuff."
"But it's dry, bro. So either he already figured it out, or it's empty now," Mike stated. "So do you wanna put that in the van now, or should we look for the stereo first?"
"Let's go do that first, then we'll only have to make one trip when we leave," Tyler replied. "I think he said it's in the basement, so I'll just leave this here, and go lock the front door, and we can come out this way when we're done."
Leading his friends back through the house, they marched down the hall to the door which Tyler informed them led to the basement. They thundered down the stairs, finding themselves in a large, dark-paneled room, with only one small window in the upper wall for ventilation. There were boxes and storage tubs stacked neatly against the walls, and they began scanning the labels, trying to find the promised stereo.
As Seth and Tyler began dismantling a pile of boxes, Mike stood in the center of the room, a slightly puzzled look on his face. After a moment, he asked, "Hey, do you guys smell something funky?"
The other boys paused in their efforts, sniffing the air, and Seth replied, "Yeah, a little bit. Maybe there's a dead mouse in one of these boxes. Or maybe the sewer is backing up."
Mike walked to the other side of the room, toward a door which was held with a heavy padlock. "Nah, it's not the boxes, because the smell is worse over this way. Where does this door go anyway, Ty?"
"It's sort of a storm cellar, or panic room, whatever you wanna call it. Reinforced concrete, stuff like that."
"If it's a storm cellar, why is it locked up, then?" Mike quizzed, giving the handle an experimental rattle.
All three boys started visibly when this was followed by a metallic rattling noise which emanated from inside the sealed room. Tyler and Seth both dropped the boxes they held, while Mike backpedaled away from the door, blurting, "What the hell was that?"
Then the teenagers froze when a woman's voice replied to the question. "Can you call somebody and get me out of here, before he comes back? You don't want him to catch you down here, and I don't want to be part of whatever his plan is. I just want to go home to my family!"
They stared at each other in shock as the voice trailed off with a sob, but Seth quickly took charge of the situation. The oldest of the three at seventeen, he planned to follow his father's footsteps into a firefighting career, and had gone on a few ride-alongs, so he had some sense of how the situation should be handled.
"Ty, Mike, do you both have your phones?" he queried. When they nodded an affirmative, he ordered, "Ty, you should probably call your dad, and get him to come over. Mike, call 911 and tell 'em what's going on. I'll try to keep her calm until somebody gets here."
As they scrambled for their phones, Seth stepped closer to the door, and said, in the most composed voice he could muster, "Yeah, we're gonna call for help, don't worry. I'm Seth, what's your name?"
"My name is Dolly," the quivering voice responded. "Dolly Lowell."
Tyler nearly dropped his phone when he heard those words, mumbling, "Shit, that's the lady in the newspaper! Gramps is gonna freak again."
Mike began to dial 911, but then abruptly punched the "END" key as a disturbing thought crossed his mind. He stared blankly at the device for several seconds before an idea occurred to him, and he fumbled his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans. Digging through the contents, he finally pulled out a dog-eared card, and held it in front of him as he dialed a number, then waited nervously for his call to be answered.
*****************************************************************************
"Crap, is this everybody?" Irv Weintraub groused as he glanced around the conference room, to see only Garrett Sanger, Eloise Han, and Lew Bremerton looking back at him.
"Afraid so, Irv. This stomach bug is kicking our asses," Sanger informed him. "At last report, we're down to just over fifty percent on uniformed patrols, and even less than that in the major crime units. And we're in good shape, compared to Santa Barbara and even County."
"How the hell are we supposed to get anything done, then? We can barely keep a lid on the crazies when we're running full manpower, if somebody decides to start something right now, this town will be a fuckin' circus!"
"Mayor Greenblatt is talking with the Governor about lending some National Guard troops to help out with street patrols," Dean Bledsoe announced as he entered the room. "If he can get that to happen, that'll give us a little breathing room. But what I'm most concerned about is our group here, and how to go about dividing up the work we need to do with so few of you available. Do you have any ideas, Garrett?"
As Sanger opened his mouth to speak, his phone rang. He glanced at the display, and saw an unfamiliar number, and decided to simply let the call go to voicemail. But this idea proved fruitless when the caller immediately redialed, so he hit the "SEND" key and fairly barked, "This is Sanger. I'm in a meeting, so this had better be good!"
There was a momentary pause, and then a rather nervous voice said, "Lieutenant? Uh, hi. Umm, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Mike Donnelly. Y'know, Eric's friend."
The name instantly clicked in Sanger's memory: Donnelly, the kid who had found Dierdre Whitman sobbing on her front lawn, and alerted his father to the disaster at the Whitman house. He held up a hand to silence the other detectives, and said, "Yes, I remember you, Mike. What's the problem? Did you see him again?"
"No, not exactly," the boy responded. After the first moment of hesitation, his words tumbled out in a rush. "Y'see, me and my brother went with our buddy to his uncle's house to get something, and there's this room in the basement with a lock on it, and there's somebody inside, and she says her name is Dolly, and Ty said that she's in the paper, and she asked us to call the cops, and..."
Nearly teleporting from his chair, Sanger attempted to stay calm, and told the nearly hysterical teenager, "Okay, slow down a bit, Mike. Are you absolutely certain that's what she said?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. My brother asked what her name was, and she said Dolly Lowell. Was that in the paper?"
"Yes, it was. Now tell me, Mike, what is the address of the house you're in, and is anyone else there besides you and your friends?"
"Hang on a sec," Mike said. Sanger then heard him call out, "Hey, Ty, what's the address here?" There was a mumbled response, then another from a different voice before the boy came back on the line. "Ty says that the address is 3774 Cedarcrest Drive, and the only other person here is the lady. And Seth said to tell you that she said she's got a big heavy chain on her leg, and somebody will probably have to cut it off. Can you do that?"
"I can most definitely make sure that happens. Now what I need you and your friends to do is go outside and wait on the front lawn until I get there. I'm leaving right now, and I'm also going to have an ambulance dispatched, so someone will be there very soon."
As he ended the call, Bledsoe asked, "What the hell was that about? Where are you going?"
"That was a boy named Michael Donnelly, who is currently standing in a home with two other boys, and a woman who is confined in a padlocked room, and says that her name is Dolly Lowell," he announced as he practically jogged to the door. "Apparently God decided that we needed a break, because this time we've got a live one, and she should be able to point us right to the sick son of a bitch. So who's going with me?"
No one said a word, but his question was answered when everyone else in the room rose from their seats and followed him without hesitation.