Chapter 9

"Are you sure there isn't something we can do?" Sarah intervened, leaning in towards the woman. Sarah obviously sensed his growing temper and was trying to diffuse the situation.

Bryan stood impatiently at the counter of the police station, his irritation barely controlled at the woman behind the counter in her crisp blue police uniform and shiny badge who told him there wasn't anything they could do. "Anything?"

"As I told you before, sir," Officer Neely's voice was becoming a bit terse now, "there's really nothing we can do until he's been missing for 48 hours."

He glanced behind the counter to the other police in the station. Some were sitting at their desks working on their computer, a couple were talking, laughing as they sipped their coffee—lattes even—and one or two were on the phone. A couple of them had glanced in his direction with a slight frown as his voice rose. All Bryan could think of was that all these people were just sitting around when Wyatt was out there, alone, somewhere, maybe hurting...

"Yes, but I'm telling you, someone threatened him yesterday morning just before he went missing. Doesn't that change anything? Can't you at least file a report about that?" Brian huffed. Sarah placed a placating hand on his forearm to keep his temper in check. He cast a quick glance at her reassuring smile.

"Unfortunately, sir, from what you've said, you don't actually have knowledge that a threat was made. You said a few teens saw a man 'hassling' your boyfriend. That does not constitute a threat."

"But—" Bryan knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. He was certain that Darrin Roque had something to do with Wyatt's disappearance and waiting a whole other day to do something would kill him. "But this guy has been stalking Wyatt for days, isn't there something—"

"If there was a restraining order in place, then yes, we could send someone out, but—"

"Fuck," Bryan snapped, raking his hand through his hair. He saw one of the officers in the back put away his cell phone and rise. Oh, crap, Bryan straightened as he watched the officer making his way toward the front. He realized that perhaps his raised voiced might get him in a bit of trouble.

"Again, sir," Officer Neely gritted out, obviously annoyed with having to deal with him, "I will make a note of your visit, but I can't officially—"

"Rachel," a voice behind the female officer interrupted. She looked back at the other officer in relief, Bryan noted. Sergeant Woods, his name tag said. Bryan shifted nervously as he glanced down at the counter, Sarah's hand tightened on his arm.

"Sergeant, this is Bryan Foxgrove. His boyfriend has been missing since yesterday. But as I told him, we can't take a Missing Person Report until—"

Sergeant Woods frowned at Bryan and Sarah. "Is this about Mr. Kinnon?"

Bryan, Sarah, and Officer Neely looked taken aback.

Officer Neely suddenly looked worried that maybe she'd done something wrong. "Y-yes, sir."

"Yes," Bryan rushed out at the same time as the woman he'd been arguing with. "Wyatt Kinnon, my fiancé."

The furrowed brow of the tall man deepened. He patted Neely on the shoulder. "I'll take care of this, Rachel. Come with me, Mr. Foxgrove. I'll take your statement."

Bryan's eyes widened in surprise, hope flooding through him. "Thank you!"

"Sir?" Poor Officer Neely seemed confused by the breach of protocol. "Procedure says—"

"Screw procedure. I just got a call from my son," the sergeant stated, his hands on his heavy belt. "He told me that his favorite teacher is missing."

Bryan and Sarah gaped at the man, stunned. Officer Neely stared at her sergeant in shock.

"Mr. Kinnon is the only teacher to ever have gotten my son to be remotely interested in school. Pure genius of that man to make Marc realize that skateboarding was math, angles and all that."

Realization dawned on Bryan. Marc. Wyatt's student. He'd said something about calling his dad for help as they'd left the park. Bryan chuckled wryly, oh, hell if he'd only known what kind of help the boy had been offering.

"You're Marc's dad?" Bryan asked in confirmation.

The tall, crew cut man stuck out his hand. "Sergeant Nathan Woods."

Bryan grasped his hand like a lifeline. "So nice to meet you."

"Come on back with me. We'll talk." He gestured in the direction of his desk as he opened the gate to the back. He nodded at Officer Neely in dismissal. She nodded back, turning her attention to the next person waiting to complain to her.

He waved at the two gray chairs in front of his desk as he pulled out a yellow legal pad to take notes on. He nodded over at the desk next to his. "This is Officer Janet Letman, my partner. Janet, this is Bryan Foxgrove and ..." he hesitated.

"Sarah Demchik," Sarah supplied with a smile.

"Nice to meet you both," Janet greeted with a nod. "Nathan tells me that his son's teacher is missing?"

"Yes," Bryan gushed out, excited now that someone was going to take him seriously. "Wyatt Kinnon, my fiancé."

The sergeant grabbed a pen, and Bryan noted that his partner had done the same. "Now, tell me what's going on."

Bryan could barely contain his relief as the details of the last twenty-four hours flooded out. Sarah interjected a few times when he'd rambled too fast for the sergeant to keep up. Once Bryan had relayed everything up to the boys' revelations about Wyatt running into Darrin, he managed to take a real breath.

Finally, someone was listening to him.

Nathan Woods stared at his notes, going back and making marks in the margins. Bryan waited anxiously for something from the man, or his partner.

"So, you say you recently proposed to Mr. Kinnon, correct?"

Bryan frowned. That wasn't how he thought the questions would go. "Yes, a few days ago on Wednesday. Why?"

"And from what I understand, he said yes. At least that's what Marc told me."

Bryan nodded. A glance at Sarah told him that she was a little concerned about where the officer was going with the questions as well.

"Did he have any reservations or doubts?"

Bryan bristled. "Look, I love Wyatt. We've been together for almost a year now, and we love each other very much. Yes, he had a few doubts. He was hurt badly by that asshole Darrin. So it's only natural that he would—"

The sergeant held up his hand to stay Bryan's arguments. "Mr. Foxgrove—"

"Bryan."

"Okay, Bryan. I don't doubt that you love him. And I definitely will be pulling in Mr. Roque for a chat, but I have to look at every angle. If there's the chance that Mr. Kinnon did just leave to 'clear his head' or whatever, I have to take that into account."

Bryan deflated, nodding as he conceded the point.

"Now, do I believe that's what happened? No. My instincts about Mr. Kinnon tell me that he's not that type of person. That's why we're here now. Marc sounded really worried about him."

"I don't know what I would have done if your son hadn't called you," Bryan admitted. "Waiting another day to even get someone to listen would have seemed like an eternity."

Nathan Woods smiled warmly. "I understand. I am breaking protocol as it is, but let me talk to my captain, tell him what's going on. I'm sure he'll give us the go ahead to start looking into this. Once he does, I'd like to have your permission to have a look at Wyatt's apartment, track his phone, stuff like that. I'll be following up with your mother and the cab company as well."

"What about Darrin? Shouldn't you be hauling him in and—" Sarah blurted out

"Oh, he's definitely on the top of the list as well, don't worry, Miss Demchik."

They all rose, shaking hands. "Thank you, Sgt. Woods, Officer Lettman."

"I'll get in touch with you later."

"I'll be waiting," Bryan assured him.

@@@@

Sgt. Nathan Woods and Officer Janet Lettman first attempted to track down Darrin Roque, but he was not at his residence. Janet was able to ascertain from one of the neighbors that he had not been home since Friday—the day that Wyatt Kinnon had disappeared—but she'd also informed them that Darrin taking off for days at a time wasn't unusual either. They left their card for the woman to call if she saw him come home.

Their next stop was the Turner mansion. Simon Lefebvre met them at the door.

"Good afternoon, officers. How may I help you?" He stepped back to allow the two police officers in.

"Is Mrs. Foxgrove here? We have a few questions for her."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you just missed her. She just left to head to her son's house."

"I see," Nathan stated, glancing around the mansion's grand foyer.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Simon offered.

"Yes, actually. We are investigating the disappearance of Wyatt Kinnon."

Nathan watched the shock spread across the older man's face. "Oh, so it's true. That's...that's so unfortunate."

"So you've already heard?" Janet asked, pulling a small notebook from her front pocket.

"Yes, Mrs. Foxgrove said her son was upset about his boyfriend not coming home last night," Simon said. "She didn't seem too worried though. I believe she thought maybe Wyatt was having second thoughts about the wedding."

"Did you see Mr. Kinnon Friday at all?" Nathan asked.

"Yes, briefly. He'd come over for lunch with Mrs. Foxgrove. They were going to discuss wedding plans. At one point, they came out here to the main hall. I think she was pointing out the grand staircase as an option for the nuptials. I didn't hear what they talked about though; there was a school group here, so it was pretty loud."

"I understand that Mr. Kinnon wasn't feeling well..."

"Yes, he was looking a bit dizzy and out of it," Simon confirmed. "Mrs. Foxgrove was helping him to her private quarters and calling a cab."

"Her private quarters?"

"Yes, the back part of the house is reserved for the family only, where she lives."

"I see. And did you see Mr. Kinnon leave?"

"Well, the cab arrived out front and I sent it around back like Mrs. Foxgrove said to. I saw it leaving shortly afterwards."

"And Mr. Kinnon was in it?" Janet asked.

Simon frowned. "Well, of course. Who else would it be?"

Janet suppressed an irritated sigh. "I'm asking if there was actually a passenger in the cab, or did the cab leave without picking anyone up?"

"Oh, my apologies," Simon flushed slightly. "Yes, I could see Mr. Kinnon in the back. He was wearing his hat, so it's pretty distinctive.

She nodded. "Thank you. Can you tell me what cab company it was?"

"Yellow cab."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Lefebvre."

"You're welcome. Anything I can do to help?"

"Let us know if you hear anything, okay?" Nathan Woods stated.

"Of course."

Officer Lettman handed over a card with contact information on it as they said their goodbyes.

Sgt. Woods exited the mansion with his younger partner on his heels. "Well, that confirms what we've already been told. We'll call the cab company, get a hold of the driver on our way over to Bryan Foxgrove's home. Maybe we can catch Mrs. Foxgrove there."

"Sounds good. I'll make the call."

"Also, check to see if we've got anything yet on tracking Kinnon's cell phone. I asked Rachel to look into that before we left, so she should have something soon."

Janet nodded her agreement, whipping out a cell phone to make the calls. After a few minutes of conversation with the cab company, she hung up smiling.

"The dispatcher says that Jim Valens picked up a passenger on Friday at about 2:15 pm. and dropped him off at 617 Hawkins Terrace—Mr. Kinnon's home address. Mr. Valens is currently at a cab stand at Marshall Park, just down from Kinnon's apartment."

"Good, we'll see if we can catch him and then head over to Mr. Foxgrove's house," Woods said as he made the turn toward the park. They were only five minutes away from the park.

When they pulled up to the curb, an older gentleman who had been leaning against the lamp post walked up to them. "Hey, I'm Jim Valens," he greeted, holding out his hand. "Dispatch called and told me to wait here for you. Said you had questions about one of my fares yesterday?"

"Yes, sir, thank you for waiting for us."

"Anytime."

"I understand you picked up Mr. Wyatt Kinnon from the Turner estate?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah," Valens chuckled. "When I got there, this older guy told me to pull around back. Then this guy came out. I'm pretty sure I've picked him up before; not many people wear hats like that, you know. He handed me a piece of paper with the address and forty bucks."

"So you recognized him because of his hat?"

"Yeah, you know, like the one Indiana Jones wore. I think maybe he had a headache too, since he had the hat pulled so low and his sunglasses on already," Valens stated flippantly.

"Did he say anything? Did he seem okay?"

"Nah, never said anything, but he acted like he was freezing, all wrapped up like he was. Coughed a couple times. Seemed a bit sick. I mean, he had to be feeling sick, right? To be all bundled up like that? I mean, it was cool yesterday, but it wasn't that cold."

"You say he was wrapped up—how?" Nathan asked, leading the man to supply more information.

"Well, he had this long brown coat on, all buttoned up. And his scarf was wrapped up around his neck and even part of his face. It think he was trying to be polite by not coughing all over my cab and spreadin' germs and stuff. You'd be surprised how rude people can be about that."

Officer Lettman recorded everything in her notebook.

"And where did you drop Mr. Kinnon off?" Janet asked.

"617 Hawkins Terrace. Well, the parking lot anyway. It's an apartment complex."

"And did you see him go up to the apartment?" Nathan asked.

"No, he got out and waved, coughed a bit more. He was moving kinda slow, but I figured he'd make it to the door, so I drove off," the cab driver stated.

"And he didn't say anything?"

"Nope. A couple grunts here and there. I figured he wasn't feeling good, maybe lost his voice which was why he had the address written down."

"Okay, thank you very much, Mr. Valens. We'll let you know if we have any more questions," Sgt. Woods stated.

"No problem, officers. Have a good night." Nathan and Janet watched the cab driver amble back to his taxi.

"Well, so far we don't have much more than we already knew," Janet sighed, tucking her notepad back in her breast pocket, just as Sgt. Woods' phone rang.

"We'll head over to Foxgrove's house," he said as he dug the cell phone out of his pocket, noting it was from the precinct. "Sgt. Woods."

Nathan stared at his partner as he listened. "Good, send a couple officers over to do a search."

After he hung up, he offered a grim smile to his partner. "They traced the cell phone. It's a few blocks away from Kinnon's apartment."

@@@@

A bare light bulb flickered to life, and Wyatt winced at the initial brightness. His throat was so dry, he could barely swallow. He blinked rapidly as the stranger slowly descended the stairs. Again.

The first time, just a short while ago, the man had only stopped on the stairs, ignoring Wyatt's questions and demands for answers, pleas for release. It had been very disconcerting to be stared at in silence for nearly ten minutes before the man had disappeared.

This time, apparently, he was coming further down. He had turned on a light allowing Wyatt to see him for the first time. He was huge, probably over a foot taller than Wyatt. His dark hair hung in his eyes, curling around the collar of his green polo shirt that stretched across his torso.

Wyatt unconsciously wrapped his arms around himself at the thought of what those muscles could do to him. He didn't want to think about what this man had planned for him.

"W-what do y-you want with m-me?" he stammered as the large man hovered near the bottom of the stairs.

Wyatt cringed at the assessing stare the man was giving him, like he was trying to figure something out. When the man started moving closer, Wyatt noticed a bottle of water in one hand and swallowed reflexively.

"Please, just let me go," Wyatt pleaded. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

The figure hovered almost uncertainly, glaring down at him and back at the stairs. Wyatt knew he didn't recognize the man, but he seemed oddly familiar as well. Maybe he'd seen him somewhere. Had the guy been following him? Stalking him?

He watched warily when the guy crouched down in front of him. Wyatt debated lashing out, hitting the man, but instinctively knew nothing he did would impact that massive body. Wyatt flinched, cowering, when the man reached out to touch him. Strangely, the man jerked back as well.

Wyatt slowly looked back up to see the water bottle rolling across the floor toward him.

"Water," the deep voice rasped.

Wyatt made no move to pick up the bottle, keeping his eyes on his assailant. Wyatt struggled to recall if he'd ever run into the guy. Surely he'd remember such a mountain of a man. Lying here, almost naked, chained to the basement floor, he could only imagine what the man wanted—and what would happen to him when the man was through with him.

Tears threatened to spill as he wondered just how badly he might be tortured before the man finally killed him. Would Bryan ever know what happened to him? Oh, God. The thought of Bryan worrying over what happened to him, of Bryan being told that his boyfriend had been raped and mutilated, of Bryan standing over his coffin...

"Please, let me go," Wyatt choked.

The man glanced back at the stairs, almost nervously, as if he expected someone else to come down. "I can't."

Maybe the guy wasn't working alone. Had Darrin enlisted this guy's help to kidnap him? Did Darrin have some control over this guy too? Wyatt looked up to see the man staring at him oddly. There was a strange mixture of sadness, confusion, and anger in the man's face. Maybe he was regretting the kidnapping. Maybe he was wishing he hadn't gotten involved. A pang of hope that maybe this guy could be an ally jolted new energy through him.

The man nudged the water bottle closer, and Wyatt reached for it slowly, accepting the offering. He carefully cracked open the seal and took a cooling sip. It felt like liquid silk sliding down his parched throat.

Wyatt cautiously put the cap back on the bottle, as the guy watched him intently. "Thank you. I'm Wyatt," he said, even though he was sure the guy probably already knew that since he'd taken practically all of his clothes, which would include his cell phone and wallet.

The man cocked his head slightly, apparently debating answering. Then a large thick finger pointed at his own chest as the man announced, "Eddie."