Savage Cinderella

Chapter 27-In Custody

Chapter 27

In Custody

When Brinn’s father had the warrant in hand to arrest Roy Stockman, she insisted on going with him. “I can identify him for you. I’ll be able to tell you if it’s the same house.”

“It’s not a good idea, Sweetheart. Besides, it’s against police procedure. We don’t want to jeopardize this case,” he argued.

“You don’t understand. I need to do this. I have to see him for myself. And maybe I can help.” Brinn argued persistently for another few minutes before her father let out a heavy breath.

“It’s against my better judgment, and I’ll have to clear it with the investigator in charge, but if you’re sure...”

An hour later, Brinn, her father, and Commissioner Paulsen were strapped into a helicopter and bound for the next state. Police Chief Celia McCafferty agreed with the unusual request, given the circumstances and the fact that they had a warrant in hand giving them authority to search the premises of Roy Stockman, suspected of kidnapping, sexual assault, and attempted murder.

Two hours after that, Brinn arrived just in time to watch the man be taken from his house in handcuffs and loaded into a cruiser bound for jail.

Brinn looked on from a hundred yards away and knew it was him. The way he walked and moved, the set of his shoulders, the hard angles of his face. If there was any doubt left in her mind, it disappeared when he turned and met her gaze. His eyes hardened, his mouth thinned, and then his lips curved into an ugly smile. Brinn’s blood froze in her veins. Her father wrapped a protective arm around her.

“Are you all right, Sweetheart?”

“I will be.” Brinn’s insides quivered and her hands shook, but she knew she would have no future until she faced her past. She met his gaze with a look of defiance that came from the depths of her soul and infused into it as much malice as she could contain. It was done. Over. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. A wave of relief so strong it almost buckled her knees swept over her as he was shoved into a cruiser. She watched as the car pulled away. Stockman’s eyes bored into her out the back window. When the car was out of sight, she fell into her father’s arms, tears streaming.

“You need to wait here with the police officers.” Her father held her tight for another second before Brinn pulled away.

“I need to go in there.” Her watery eyes focused on the house and a sudden surge of bile crept up her throat. She swiped at the tears and swallowed.

“Brinn, are you sure?” He asked with concern.

“Yes,” she said, not convinced at all. She needed to know if what had happened to her was real and not some horrible dream her mind had concocted. She needed to see where her nightmares began and ended before she could ever let them go.

The run-down farmhouse hadn’t changed much and the thought of going inside made her feel sick. She looked to the hills in the distance and had the urge to run as fast and as far as she could to escape the memories that clawed their way to the surface.

Her father took her hand. “Then let’s do this together.”

His hand was strong in hers but she smelled the fear and felt his trepidation. This would be no easier for him than it was for her. Hand in hand they walked up the dusty driveway, climbed the creaking porch, and entered the dilapidated house. The forensics team was already several minutes ahead of them, the house a hive of activity. The smell of smoke and unwashed flesh forced her back.

“You don’t have to do this, Brinn.” Her father squeezed her hand gently.

“I have to, Daddy. I need to take my life back. This is the only way.” Terrified, Brinn let go of his hand, covered her mouth and nose, and followed the police chief inside.

“Make sure you search the slaughterhouse. And check for a root cellar.” Brinn heard the police chief order as she led the way into the small kitchen. Chief Celia McCafferty, a sturdy, efficient woman with short blonde hair and steel gray eyes, turned to Brinn. “Is this where you were held captive?” Her tone was sympathetic and Brinn appreciated the strong female presence.

“Yes.” She looked down the hallway and pointed. “My room was the first one down there. The bathroom was directly across the hall, and his room was at the end. There is an upstairs, but I was never allowed up there.” Brinn looked around the kitchen and a new wave of horror found its way to her insides. “The place has been cleaned,” she said. There was a full trash bucket overflowing with rotting garbage and the smell of smoke was thick in the air, but Brinn noticed the clean dishes in the drainer and the neat stack of magazines on the end table. “He has a girl here.” Brinn darted a glance at the chief, whose eyes widened in realization.

“We’ve found something, Chief.” An investigator called from outside the house.

Brinn and her father followed behind Chief McCafferty and Commissioner Paulsen. As they rounded the corner of the house, Brinn saw an officer carrying the body of a small girl up out of a dark cellar hole. The hinged wooden doors lay open, a broken lock on the ground. The smell of human waste permeated the air. “She’s alive. Call for an ambulance!”

Brinn tried to go to the girl—to tell her she was safe, to help her understand, but a team of uniformed officers blocked her way and surrounded the barely conscious form wrapped in a tattered blanket. The girl was filthy, her dress torn, her dark hair matted. She cried weakly, disoriented by the bright sunlight and stunned by the attention of the police. She clung to the officer who carried her to safety. A bustle of efficiency took over the scene until the ambulance arrived.

"I'll follow them to the hospital and then head to the station to make sure there are no mistakes in booking. I’ll contact the parents as soon as we ID the girl. I’m sure someone is looking for her." Chief McCafferty smiled up at John Hathaway, her thin arched brow lifting. "I've never seen an arrest warrant fly across my desk so fast, Mr. Hathaway. I could use a man like you in our D.A.'s office. Could I persuade you to defect?"

"I'm afraid not, Chief. I'm planning on being very busy convicting that monster."

“Without the information your daughter reported, things would have turned out very differently for that child.” She looked after the ambulance as it pulled onto the main road and then smiled at Brinn. “You did a brave thing today, Miss Hathaway. Your courage just saved a life.”

Brinn smiled sadly, knowing that if she’d only been braver years ago, she might have saved several more lives. How many girls had he taken, tortured, and killed? How many lives were lost because she had hidden in the hills?