Part 5 (1/2)
”I know who you are. Now come out peacefully, or we're coming in!” the detective shouted again, only this time they got a response.
”We're in here! Help! They have another door! Hurry!” the kid screamed. The next second, all Sophie could hear was the sound of the metal door being kicked open, bodies slapping against one another, and a sorrowful ”Oh, s.h.i.+t,” probably from the kidnapping pervert. Detective O'Banyon raced up the stairs, followed by two officers, each carrying one of the missing kids.
The kids were placed in a patrol car, and Detective O'Banyon spoke into her cell phone. No more than five minutes pa.s.sed before she walked over to where Sophie stood.
Running a hand through her thick auburn hair, the woman, not the cop, spoke. ”Thank you. And I am so d.a.m.ned sorry I doubted your abilities. These kids have you to thank for saving their lives. I've called the parents. They're waiting down at the station. When I told them how-or, rather, who helped to locate the kids, she insisted on thanking you personally. I told her I would relay the message, but it's really up to you. If you'd rather not meet them, I'll have one of the officers drive you home.”
Sophie gushed with pride. ”Are you out of your mind? No way do I want to go home! I want to see those kids and their parents. I want to make d.a.m.n sure this has a happy ending.” Speaking of happy endings, she needed to call Goebel and Toots. ”Mind if I use your cell?”
The detective handed it to her. ”It's all yours.”
Sophie made fast work out of calling Goebel, who relayed the message to Toots, who then told the others that the kids were safe. Then they all decided they would go down to the station to meet the family and give Sophie a ride home. ”And don't forget to bring the little girl's bunny and that game. I left them in Toots's room,” Sophie added before hanging up.
Car doors slammed, and tires squealed, as the other officers left the scene. Sophie wanted to see the sick son of a b.i.t.c.h who had taken the kids. ”Is he still in there?” she asked, indicating the bas.e.m.e.nt apartment below.
”Yes, and I need to go. You wanna come with me?”
Sophie couldn't believe her ears. Detective O'Banyon was actually inviting her to sit in on an interrogation.
”We wouldn't be here now if you hadn't led us to the kids. Again, I'm sorry I was so rude earlier. I was in a similar situation once. A psychic swore he knew where a missing young girl was. He said all I had to do was listen. I did, and the girl was found murdered two days later. It wasn't a happy ending. That's why I'm such a skeptic. But you are the real deal. Again, I am so sorry for doubting you. You saved those kids' lives.”
”Enough, already. Apology accepted. Truthfully, most people feel the way you do, especially in this kind of instance, when it's a life-or-death issue.” Sophie suddenly realized she was crying. Tears as fat as raindrops fell from her eyes. Relief, these were plainly tears of relief. She hadn't been 100 percent sure about this newfangled talent, and now it hit her. If she'd been wrong, those two kids would have died. She offered up a quick prayer, thankful the kids were safe, and more thankful than ever for the gift that had been bestowed upon her.
”Come on. Just stay in the corner and be quiet. If this is what I think it is, then you've brought down one of the largest child-p.o.r.nography rings in the state.”
”Really?” Sophie said, stunned. She hadn't given the first thought to anything more than finding the kids. Why were they taken? Well, that hadn't entered the picture at all. And she knew she wasn't supposed to know the ”whys” of everything. What she knew had to be enough.
Downstairs, the smell of urine nearly took Sophie's breath away. Odors that she didn't want to put a name to a.s.saulted her senses. Once again, she resisted the urge to upchuck. It wouldn't have mattered down there, she thought. h.e.l.l, it might actually have been better than what she was smelling.
Careful not to touch anything, Sophie stood close to the door while Detective O'Banyon and two other plainclothes detectives talked among themselves before turning to the old man.
”I got my rights, and I ain't sayin' a G.o.dd.a.m.n word until I get me a lawyer. I know my rights, by G.o.d!” he declared.
Sophie could smell his sour breath across the room, because the entire apartment wasn't much larger than a small bedroom.
”Yeah, you've got rights, Clyde. And if you're smart, you'll tell me where the kids were to be taken. And who ordered this, Clyde? If you don't spill, I can sit here all night long. I've got all the time in the world. But you might want to think about delaying this any longer than you have to. Whoever you're working for will leave town the minute you make that call. It's completely up to you.” The detective crossed her arms over her chest and walked around the filthy apartment like she was perusing a model home.
”How'd you know my name?” the sour-smelling old man asked.
”Clyde Baines. Everyone in law enforcement knows your name. You've got a rap sheet as long as the Edisto River. Lewd and lascivious. Possession. The list of felonies goes on and on, old pal. You can either spit out the name of the person who was to receive those kids, or we can sit here in this nasty f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t hole all night. What do ya say, old man?”
Detective O'Banyon is not playing nice with this perp, Sophie thought, and she shouldn't. Sick old b.a.s.t.a.r.d kidnapping kids right in broad daylight.
”Where you plan on takin' me?” he asked. ” 'Cause I got rights, and I know what they are.”
”So you keep reminding me. Look, Clyde, let's just cut through the bulls.h.i.+t. It doesn't matter where I take you now. You're still going to end up spending the rest of your life in a nice, clean prison with the big boys. I hear they don't take too well to pedophiles, that sort of thing-unless they're into that, too-but most of the sick b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are placed in a cell all by their lonesome, so some big, bad murderer doesn't slice their useless a.s.s to ribbons.” The detective walked away from the sc.u.mbag and gave Sophie a big grin.
”So, what's it gonna be, Clyde, my man? Him or you? I've decided I don't have all the time in the world, you worthless f.u.c.k. I am giving you exactly thirty seconds to spill that name.”
Detective O'Banyon began to count out loud. ”One, two, three . . .”
When she reached twenty-nine, the old man spoke up. ”Okay, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, but I want a smoke first.”
”Clyde, you're really not in any position to negotiate.” She turned to the officer at the door. ”Get him a cigarette, will you, Harry?”
Sophie whipped a package of Marlboros out of her pocket, lit up, and watched the old man stare at her. ”I'll die before I share my smokes with you, you dirty old pervert!” said Sophie.
Detective O'Banyon laughed. ”See, Clyde? People don't like you. Now, are you gonna give me a name or am I gonna have to rough you up a bit?”
Sophie wasn't sure she'd heard correctly and didn't care. This was better than TV. This was the real deal. With a new respect for Detective O'Banyon, she took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke in Clyde Baines's direction.
The taller of the two plainclothes officers returned from wherever he had gone and stuck a lit cigarette between Clyde Baines's smelly lips. Baines took a long drag, making the end of the cigarette glow like a fireball. Sophie watched as he fumbled with the smoke. With his arms handcuffed behind him, she could see what a difficult time he was having. He took another long puff and pushed the cigarette out of his mouth with his tongue, being careful to lean forward when he did so that the cigarette wouldn't land on his pant leg.
Detective O'Banyon stomped on the cigarette. ”Okay, Clyde. My patience is almost gone. You got your smoke. Now it's your turn to give up that name.”
The old man smiled at the detective. ”You still ain't told me where you're gonna take me. That's part of the deal.”
Sophie knew the detective had reached her boiling point when she leaned eyeball-to-eyeball with Baines and said, ”Okay, you smelly f.u.c.k, your chance is gone.”
She walked away, then quickly turned around. Before Sophie knew what was happening, the detective hauled off and slapped Clyde Baines squarely in the face.
He sputtered, ”You f.u.c.kin' b.i.t.c.h! I'll have your a.s.s for police brutality!”
”And who do you suppose will believe you? The chief? I don't think so. The state's attorney? I don't think so,” she singsonged. ”Now I am p.i.s.sed, and I'm tired. I've got two boys at home. . . .” Detective O'Banyon stopped short.
Baines began to laugh; then he doubled over, laughing, spittle flying from his foul mouth. ”d.a.m.n woman! If I'd-a known you had a couple-a young'uns, I'd gone after them, too.” He continued to laugh and taunt the detective.
Sophie couldn't stand it anymore. She didn't care who saw her. She took a few short steps over to the single chair, where Clyde Baines sat. Before she could stop herself, she spit directly in his face.
Chapter 9.
Toots , Ida, and Mavis crammed themselves into the backseat of Toots's Lincoln Town Car while Goebel, Robert, and Bernice crawled into the front, raising the center armrest/storage compartment to make room to seat three, however uncomfortably. Jamie and Lucy opted out, telling the others that they'd stay with the animals. Chris and Abby returned to their house, though Abby asked Toots to call as soon as they had news of the children. ”Good or bad,” she'd added.
”I can't believe what Sophie did,” Robert said. ”She sure isn't what she appears.”
”And what would that be?” Ida asked haughtily.
The older man chuckled. ”I thought she was kinda nuts when I first met her, but now I know better. She's like that old Miss Cleo, huh?” He laughed again.
”Robert, whatever you do, never say that in front of Sophie. Miss Cleo is a total fake. Sophie hates those so-called psychics who lie to people, give them false hope, and take their money. So never, ever compare her to that fraud, or she's liable to place some kind of hex on you,” Toots offered from the backseat, but poor old Robert couldn't see the huge grin that split her face.
”Are you telling me she can cast a spell or something? Like those women with the voodoo dolls I see down there at Market Street?”
”Robert, dear, you've got it all twisted up in a knot. She's just messing with your head,” Bernice explained, giving Toots a dirty look. ”We all agree Sophie has a very unique set of skills.”
No one had told Robert or Wade everything that went on in the house next door. At the moment, Toots figured that was a good thing. Wade and Mavis were content to talk about dead people, while Bernice and Robert kept the recipe thing going. Someone would have to give them a bit more insight into Sophie and her skills as soon as the current mess with the kids' kidnapping and rescue was put to rest.