Page 61 of Forensics of a Fable

“The police’s only suspect was found in a shallow grave in the woods,” Eamon sighed. “He’s been dead for weeks, which means he isn’t the killer. They now have no leads.”

Reese cursed, running a hand through his greying hair as he stared out of the window. For a long moment, neither manspoke. They simply sat in the home of a woman they cared for, terrified by their grief.

“I should um…” Reese started. “I should walk the dog.”

At the word walk, Cerberus jumped off Eamon’s lap and sauntered to the door. He touched his nose to Bel’s sneakers, a forlorn expression clouding his furry face, and both men watched him with heartbreak. The animal missed her as much as they did.

“I’ll come with you.” Eamon stood and joined them.

“Are you sure?” her dad asked, surveying his dirt and sweat-stained bare torso. “It looks like you’ve had a long day.”

“I’m fine,” Eamon said, more concerned about Bel’s father venturing out alone than his own exhaustion.

“The company will be nice,” Reese conceded. “I’m going crazy in this house by myself. Cerberus is beside himself. I always knew pets had emotions, but seeing him without her has taught me how much dogs love us. We need to find her. He needs her back.”

Eamon gritted his teeth to the point of pain to keep from adding that he needed her just as badly as Cerberus did.

“I love all my daughters,” Reese continued, oblivious to his turmoil. “They’re special and wonderful women, but Bel is the most like me. She’s the child who made the most sense to me because while her sisters were worried about proms or boyfriends or office drama, Bel was following me around asking what different police acronyms meant. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest to indulge her morbid curiosity, but it’s how we bonded. We understood each other, and after my wife died, I guess I needed someone who both looked like her but could relate to me. I loved my wife. She was an amazing woman and mother, and after I lost her, I thought nothing could ever hurt that much. Then I got the call that Bel had been attacked and was in the hospital fighting for her life. I almost lost my babygirl, and ever since, there’s a permanent fear in my heart. She’s so precious to me, and I can’t lose her. I don’t think I would survive losing one of my children.”

Guilt washed over Eamon. He’d been the one to put her in the hospital. He hadn’t been there to protect her from being kidnapped. “I don’t want to lose her either.”

Reese looked at him as if deciding how wise it was to ask the hulking millionaire what his relationship with his daughter was, but he seemed to decide against it. “What are the chances she’s still alive? Is there hope for my girl?”

“The other women were killed within days of being taken, their bodies found shortly after,” Eamon answered, his voice cold and harsh to keep from shaking. “We can’t find her, which means his M.O. has changed, and if that changed, then perhaps his intentions for Isobel are different. So yes, there’s hope. Until something proves me wrong, I’ll trust she’s still alive.”

“She’s been missing for two weeks,” Reese said. “The first forty-eight hours of any case are critical. If the victim or killer isn’t found in that time frame, the chances of things ending favorably drop significantly.”

Eamon strode a few paces ahead to hide his face as agony ripped him to shreds. He knew Bel’s dad was speaking from his experience as an NYPD officer, but Eamon couldn’t bear those words of despair. Not from her father.

The three continued in silence, losing track of time as they drowned in their thoughts, and before they realized it, they’d entered town. The air was pleasant, and it was early enough for people to still be moving about. They passed a couple walking a small terrier, who barked animatedly at Cerberus. The men moved into a single-file line to give the smaller dog a wide berth when her father tripped on something in the darkness. He stumbled slightly before regaining his balance, and with an accusing glare at the ground, he bent to pick the object up.

“Eamon,” Reese called, “you dropped your—”

Cerberus growled, cutting him off as he lunged. He nipped at her father’s fingers, forcing him to drop the object, and both men stared at the pitbull in shock at his sudden aggression.

“What’s wrong with you?” Reese reprimanded. “You don’t bite me. That was—”

“That’s not my wallet,” Eamon interrupted, studying the plain brown wallet laying on the sidewalk. He bent to examine it, but the moment he touched the leather, Cerberus snarled, his fangs on full display. “He wasn’t growling at you,” Eamon said as the realization dawned on him. “He’s growling at the wallet.”

“Why would he do that?” Reese asked.

“Because he is a good dog.” Eamon seized the wallet before the pitbull could snap at his fingers. “He’s a very good dog.”

Bel steppedinto the cold shower, rushing to scrub the bar of soap over her body. The basement thankfully had warm water, but she needed to cool her flushed skin and erase all signs of sweat. She was cutting it close, but without a clock or windows, it was hard to judge when Abel would return. He adhered to a strict visiting schedule. Every morning, he turned on her lights at 7:30 a.m. and spent a half hour with her while they ate breakfast. He then left for work, abandoning her for hours until lunchtime, but at least he continued to bring her a steady stream of novels, even if they weren’t the genres she enjoyed. After lunch, he returned to the office, only coming back to share a microwave dinner of her request. He rarely stayed longer than the meals, and while Bel was thankful for the minimalinteraction, she wondered why. He claimed to love her, yet he never lingered, as if he didn’t know what to do with a woman besides feed them oatmeal or poison them.

Bel gasped as she splashed the chilled water under her arms and on her face. She read every book Abel brought her. Partially because the loneliness was unbearable, but also because he quizzed her on them. They were clearly novels he loved, and she’d found a rhythm to her captivity. With each day, Abel fell more and more into her security, but Bel refused to settle into complacency. She had not fallen idle, which was why she was rushing to cool her overheated body. Between breakfast and lunch every day she read those dull books so she could play his games, but after lunch in the boring hours between noon and 8:00 p.m., she pushed herself as far as the chain would allow. Sit-ups, pushups, jumping jacks, and planks. She practiced the yoga moves she remembered from her few classes, and she stretched and sweated and strained until her muscles ached. Bel was already strong, but she wouldn’t decay into nothing in this basement because Abel would eventually make a mistake. He would get too close or forget to lock the door, and when he did, she would not be so easily defeated.

Too cold to remain in the shower, Bel toweled off before slipping back into the pale blue nightgown. She’d been distracted while working out, her mind replaying her memories of Cerberus over and over until she jerked back to reality. The discomfort in her stomach told her dinner would arrive any minute, and the sweat pouring down her body and the red flush in her cheeks would give her actions away. She didn’t want Abel to know how hard she’d been training. She wanted him to believe that she read his books and ate his food and counted down the seconds until he returned.

Thankfully, she managed to shower with more than enough time to arrange herself lazily on the mattress as if she hadn’tjust done hundreds of squats and crunches. By her best guess, fifteen silent minutes passed before the basement lock clicked, and she lifted the spy thriller before her eyes as if she was a lady of luxury, spending her days reading in bed.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Abel said as he entered the room with a tray of microwave dinners.

“I am,” Bel said, keeping the ‘more than you know’part of the phrase silent.

“The store had buy one, get one free, and you asked for spaghetti today. They had so many pasta varieties that I couldn’t decide.” He set the tray down with a flourish, as if this was New York City fine dining and not a windowless basement with tv dinners. “I figured you have been so behaved these past two weeks that you deserved a treat. I got Cajun chicken, meatballs and red sauce, lemon vegetable, and macaroni and cheese.”

Bel’s eyes brightened involuntarily at the mention of mac and cheese. Even frozen, that sounded delicious, and Abel grinned when he saw the food pleased her.

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