Culture Shock Part 20

"Fast forward, Mike," Cynthia urged.

Nothing changed as the images quickly pa.s.sed on the screen. Suddenly, a figure appeared. Cynthia yelled, "Stop...rewind."

The camera showed just another tenant throwing her garbage away. Cynthia sighed. "Okay, fast forward again."

When the tape caught up to present, they had watched four tenants discard their rubbish, and one stray cat rummage for food. Mike switched the monitor to the front door camera. "Don't get discouraged, maybe this one caught something. It's the one I've been watching the most. I haven't seen anything out of the norm though." He paused for a moment. "Although you do have a real pervert that lives in your building."

"Pervert? What are you talking about?"

"You'll see," Mike said as he started the video.

People that Cynthia recognized entered and left. The mailman and a few legitimate delivery people appeared, but nothing that waved a red flag. Mike stopped the tape at one particular point. Here," he said. "Watch this guy."

Thomas Carpenter, Alex's favorite resident masher, leaned against the front of the building and ogled all the pa.s.sing women.

"Do you know him?" Mike turned and asked.

"Not personally. I only met him in the hallway once or twice, but Cynthia has complained about him a few times. He's harmless. Just a would-be Romeo who can't find a willing Juliet."

Cynthia couldn't believe how often the obnoxious man appeared in such a short time. Surely he didn't spend all his days hanging around outside, leering. Finally the tape ended and recording resumed. Mike stood. "That's it, Alex. I didn't see anything suspicious, did you?"

Cynthia shook her head. "No, not a dang thing." She walked to the window and peered down at the busy street below. Taxi's darted in and out of traffic, while buses caused jams. She looked back at Mike. "We have to do something. What do you think happened?"

"Either your girlfriend left the building before the cameras started, or she didn't leave at all."

"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "So, if she didn't leave, she has to still be in the building. But where?"

"I didn't say she was in the building. I said since we've been filming, she didn't come out...unless she can turn invisible."

She wanted to launch into hysterical laughter. Up until recently, she hadn't believed in body transferences. Why would she doubt invisibility?

She started for the door. "Thanks, Mike. Keep watching. I'll be back to relieve you when your s.h.i.+ft is over. In the meantime, I'm going to do a little sleuthing on my own."

"Do you want me to call in a report for you?"

"Not quite yet. Let's wait and make sure she really is a missing person."

In her heart, Cynthia knew Alex was in trouble. Maybe she needed to tell Mike the whole truth.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Alex fought to focus in the darkened room. He had no idea where he was. As the drug-induced fog cleared, he realized his hands were secured, as were his feet. The crude electrical wire cut deep into the delicate skin of Cynthia's wrists. Debris beneath him chafed her thigh.

Alex struggled against his restraints, wanting desperately to free his hands so he could remove the duct tape covering his mouth. The thick adhesive bent just beneath his nostrils and interfered with his breathing. Claustrophobia pulled him into panic mode, but he fought to remain calm and take deep, even breaths.

The only illumination came from underneath the door, apparently a weak light outside wherever he was imprisoned. He appeared to be wedged between the wall and a circuit board, and there wasn't much room to maneuver.

Anger set his blood boiling when his mind flashed back to the spiteful face of his captor. The cold, evil look on the man's leering face had instilled fear Alex had never before experienced, but then he'd never been a small, defenseless woman.

The ancient hinges squealed when the door opened. Fingers of light crept across the filthy floor. Alex peered up into the face of his abductor and silently cursed the man.

The fiend loomed over Alex and cackled. "Well, I see you're still nice and comfy. It won't be long now until you join the others. I just have to go upstairs and get your little bundle of joy."

Alex's string of curses came out in a mumble against the duct tape. He squirmed to loosen his bindings.

His captor kicked the bottom of Alex's foot. "It won't do any good to fight. You can't get loose. I've had lots of practice with knots."

The man's chuckle sent a chill up Alex's spine.

"Speaking of knots, little lady...I'll bet you have one in the pit of your stomach right now. But don't worry. I'll make sure to work quickly. It'll only hurt for a moment." He started for the door, then turned. "You wait right here, my darling, I'll hurry back. You might want to say a prayer or two while you still have time."

The ancient window curtain in his apartment blocked out most of the sun, but the small lamp in the corner provided all the light he needed. He sat for a moment, his thoughts dwelling on the woman who awaited him in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He supposed he should feel bad, but he didn't. She was just like the rest, deserving of what he had in store for her.

He stood, walked across the room and opened the storage closet door. Bending, he removed two loose floorboards and pulled out a doll. The naked, make-believe baby had a contented look etched on its face.

The villain knelt and reached further back into the hole, searching for his stack of signature blue cloths. He unfolded one and wrapped the doll inside, then leaning back on his heels, focused on what needed to be done.

The words, "I don't want to be with you anymore, and I certainly don't want to bear your children," rang painfully in his head. Anger flooded through him, and his fingers bit into the doll's plastic body. His ire turned his breaths to panting; he craved fresh air and a smoke. Besides, he had no need to hurry. The b.i.t.c.h wasn't going anywhere; he'd tied her nice and tight. This time would be different. He wasn't going to just ease his hatred for women by killing her, he planned to have a little s.e.xual fun before taking pleasure in killing her. The feel of his hands around her throat, as with all the others, would bring him peace. At least, for a while. A cigarette and then s.e.x...he'd done things backwards before. He made his own rules.

Dodging traffic to cross the street back to The Cairns, Cynthia struggled with her rising panic. Something was terribly wrong, she felt in her heart. Alex would never do anything to worry her, especially under the circ.u.mstances.

The stairs creaked as she made her way up, and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that he'd just stepped out and would soon return, the facts convinced her otherwise. Alex wouldn't leave without letting her know. Even if he did, he would have secured the door and taken her purse. Dread settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

She unlocked the door and perused the room. Was there something she'd overlooked? The kitchen was undisturbed, and the bedroom looked fine. The bed was unmade, but that was usual for Alex. The small, cramped bathroom was a mess. Her cosmetics littered the counter and her hairbrush rested on the sink, but she saw nothing in the way of a clue.

Back in the living room, her attache case on the table showed he'd come home from work. It made sense; he had to have been in the building before the cameras started recording. Her senses told her he was still somewhere in The Cairns, and she needed to find him before it was too late. Faces of previous victims flashed in her mind and sent a s.h.i.+ver down her spine.

She sat at the table and rested her head in her hands. She tried to think about things from Alex's perspective. What would he do? She knew what Cynthia would do. She'd cry. The tears welled and although she fought against it, they spilled down Alex's cheeks. She swiped them away, her hands brus.h.i.+ng the stubbly growth of his five-o'clock shadow.

"Get a grip, Cynthia," she commanded. "You can't just curl up in a ball and cry. You need to find Alex and your body."

Pulling herself together, she stood and rubbed her eyes with both hands to make sure all traces of wetness were gone. John Cratski, or whoever he claimed to be, was about to receive a visit. She squared her shoulders and stormed out the door.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Cynthia made her way down the stairs wondering what she would say when Cratski opened the door...if he opened the door. Her thoughts flashed to the burned out bulb upstairs. The perfect lead-in, a needed replacement.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the super's door. Hearing movement inside, she waited. She really wanted to run away, but her feet stayed firmly planted and she steeled herself for what she might find.

The door inched open enough for beady eyes to peer through the slit. "Yeah, what is it?"

His form blocked the opening and she couldn't see anything. Filled with bravado, she leaned against the door, hoping it might open a little further. But Cratski, or whoever he was, held it fast.

"Sorry to bother you, but I thought you should know that one of the bulbs in the hallway upstairs needs a replacement. It's rather dark up there."

"I'll get to it as soon as I can," he grumbled, then shut the door in her face.

"d.a.m.n!" Cussing was appropriate under the circ.u.mstances and she didn't care who heard her. Before she lost her nerve, she knocked a second time.

"What?" Cratski asked angrily, peeking out. "I told you I'd get to it."

"I just wanted...well, I just wonder if you've seen Ms. Freitas today?"

He opened the door a little wider and rested against the jamb. "No, why? Should I have?"

"I'm concerned about her. I found her door open and she wasn't inside. I thought perhaps you might have seen or heard something in your capacity as building superintendent." Cynthia didn't care if he knew someone was nosing around. Maybe it would make him nervous.

The smell of stale cigarette smoke emanated from his clothing and his hair was in need of combing. He straightened and suddenly seemed interested in what Cynthia had to say. "Do you know the last time anyone saw her?"

"No, but her purse is in the apartment so she was there. She generally gets home around five." Cynthia flinched. Wasn't she the one who was supposed to be asking questions? "So, you've not seen her?" She took control again.

"No, but maybe you should report her missing."

"I will. Thanks for your time."

Cynthia walked away, pondering his reaction. Why would he suggest filing a report if he was in some way involved? Cratski seemed way too interested, but concerned at the same time. Plus, nothing tied him to Alex's disappearance.

Conducting police business wasn't for the untrained, especially when someone's life might be on the line. She walked the upstairs hallways looking for something...anything to lead her to Alex but found nothing but the same tired carpeting and dreary paint. She descended the stairs, this time with a keen eye for clues. Still nothing. Disappointment tightened her chest.

With no desire to go back upstairs only to sit and worry, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and straight into the path of Thomas Carpenter. The shapely rear-end of a female pa.s.serby held his gaze, and he walked right into Cynthia.

He looked up with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I should be watching where I walk."

Cynthia glanced at the woman he'd been watching, then back to Carpenter's pockmarked face. "Maybe you should. You might hurt yourself if you're not careful."

Carpenter's Adam's apple wobbled with a hard swallow. "How's Miz Freitas been?" His smile looked forced.

Cynthia didn't care to engage in chit chat. She gazed down at the creepy little man. "Do you spend all your free time out here watching women come and go?"

"Not all of it! Though I do admit I have an eye for the ladies. I don't believe there's a law against it, is there?"

"No, there's no law for just looking." She eyed him as he watched another woman pa.s.s. "But there should be one for s...o...b..ring while you do it."

Carpenter's mouth gaped, and for once, he stood speechless.

Trying to stifle a smile at having put the letch in his place, Cynthia gazed across the street, knowing Mike watched. Maybe she'd sit with him until his s.h.i.+ft ended. She had no idea what else to do. At least having someone to talk to would keep her mind occupied, and maybe they could put their heads together and find a way to locate Alex.

Carpenter opened the lobby door. "I guess I'll go in. Not many people out this time of the evening."

"Good night, Mr. Carpenter," she said as she walked away, feeling she'd struck a blow for womankind. Of course, it didn't hurt that she delivered the insult as a burly, well-developed man.

After checking both ways and waiting for a break in traffic, Cynthia crossed, went inside and waited for the elevator.

Mike didn't seem surprised to see her when he opened the door. "I figured it was you. I saw you talking to that ogling idiot."

Cynthia nodded in agreement with Mike's description. She stepped inside. "I hope you don't mind the company. I'm going nuts trying to think of what to do. I guess I'll call in a missing person's report. At least, if there's an all points bulletin issued, there will be more people looking for her."

"You can call it in, but normally a person has to be missing for twenty-four hours before anything can be done."

Cynthia hadn't known that rule but was adamant. "I'm still calling it in. Surely Alex...I have some pull with the department." She picked up the phone and dialed.

Afterwards she called her place of employment and told them Cynthia Freitas needed to request an emergency leave. She wished she could have told them how long she would be gone, but she left it open-ended. They weren't happy. Worry over losing her job niggled at her, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. In the present scope of things, she feared losing something much more important, herself.

Mike had gone home and left Cynthia to watch the monitors. She balled her hands into fists and wiped at her tired eyes. For hours she had stared at the front and back of The Cairns, and saw absolutely nothing but the same red bricks, gla.s.s entry or littered alley. No one had come or gone. Earlier, several people had pa.s.sed, but that was normal. Now that the hour grew late, most people had gone to bed for the night. She wished she could, even though she doubted she could sleep.

This had been a horrendous day. She never was good at being positive, and despite the fact that she tried her hardest to focus on having faith, she feared the worst. Alex had to have been taken against his will. He would have called her by now. Panic welled and anxiety seized her chest in a tightening grip.

What if ...those words kept haunting her. She had no desire to spend the rest of her life locked in a man's body, but if she could bargain with G.o.d to bring Alex back, she'd promise to remain the same and never complain. She surprised herself. When did she start caring that much for him? The thought of never hearing his sarcastic jabs and silly excuses again saddened her. She refused to rest until she found him.

They hadn't come this far for it to end like this.

If something didn't happen during her twelve-hour watch, Cynthia wasn't sure what move to make next. She had no idea how the police handled investigations like this, except what Mike had mentioned. Surely because of the Baby Doll Murderer they would take every report seriously. Regardless, by the time her s.h.i.+ft was over, so would twenty-four hours of waiting and worrying. She focused her attention back on the monitors, hoping beyond hope that something caught her eye and led to Alex.

Mike came by the next morning in the squad car to pick up the monitors and the rest of the equipment. Cynthia was sure the look on her face conveyed what a dismal waste of time the stake-out had been. "Thanks, for your effort, partner. I'm sorry it didn't help us one iota. I'm scared to death that Cynthia is the next victim of the killer. Please tell me I'm wrong."

Mike ma.s.saged his chin. "I'd like to say something positive, buddy, but if she's as responsible as you say, this doesn't look good." He patted Cynthia on the back. "You better go home and get some rest. I promise I'll keep looking. And I know the other fellas are, too, now that they know it's your girl." He picked up the last piece of equipment and nodded toward the door. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride across the street. I have to go pick up the alley camera."

She slid into the pa.s.senger seat and rested her head against the back. Exhaustion left her limp and defeated, but on the positive side, she might be able to sleep. Mike made a left turn and pulled around behind the building.

The dispatcher's voice announced a disturbance call in The Cairns. Mike responded that he and Alex were in the immediate vicinity and would contact the reporting person. They left the squad car in the alley and hurried around to the front entrance.

"Officers!" A hysterical woman greeted them. "Come quickly, there's a man lying on the floor inside." Concern etched her elderly face.

Cynthia didn't recognize the lady, but then she didn't know many other tenants. She had prayed the call would lead to Alex, but her hopes were dashed the moment the woman indicated her concern was for a man.