Finding Beauty (Rewrite)

Chapter 3

~Beauty~

Grayson paced the room in silence for a minute. Then he paused, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. "Do you know what this means?"

Beth sat, frozen. She had not even lifted a finger since hearing the diary entry. "That my mother's dead?"

The Beast was a serial killer bold enough to go after fellow criminals. He brought the saying pick on someone your own size to a whole new level. Beth could imagine that ending the life of a random trespassing drug addict who for all he knew was aware of his location would be no skin off his back.

Besides, the rumours about him were gruesome and ruthless. The bodies of his victims were never found, leaving conspiracy theorists a playground of possibilities. Some said that he was a cannibal and kept the bodies to eat them. Some said that he had his own plot of land where he would bury the bodies to create a graveyard of his own. People assumed that he went after criminals because of some superhero complex. He may have been some twisted copy of Batman. No one but the NYPD was that concerned though. He only went after criminals and as long as you weren't one you didn't have much to worry about. But after stealing from him . . . Beth's mother was a criminal.

"No. Gosh, no." Grayson took Beth's cold hands in his own, willing her to look him in the eyes. "The police have all the reason in the world to find your mother now! Wherever she is, the Beast is! We have to give this to the police immediately!"

"You're right," she said, willing herself to be present. Every second that passed increased the likelihood her mother was dead.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Who is it?" Grayson asked peering over her shoulder. He had been pretty protective over her throughout the day. He kept looking at her as if he was waiting for her to break. Beth wished he would have some faith in her strength. Beth had to remind him that there were things he didn't see. Times she had to hold her mother's hair back while she held her anger back. Times she had to scope out the apartment with a kitchen knife to make sure the dealers hadn't broken in to collect money. She didn't want to feel broken and sometimes that was how he made her feel.

"I don't recognize the number."

"You know what? You take that. I'll go call the police." He scrambled out of the room and Beth hurried to answer the phone. She wanted to join Grayson in talking to the cops as soon as possible. No one could fight for her mother as hard as she could.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie." She knew that voice.

"Mom?" Relief and shock rushed over her.

Her reply was light and cracked, letting on that she had been crying. "Yeah, baby. It's me."

"Where are you? Are you okay? Mom, the police they-"

"Listen to me, Beth." Her mother sounded as sober as ever. "I stole from a bad man and I'm with him right now. He says he can let me go if I return what I took."

Beth remembered what she read. "You mean the rose?"

"Yes. You read my diary, didn't you?" She hated how disappointed her mother sounded. If only she knew how many times she had read it.

"I'm sorry. I had to so I could find out where-"

"Nevermind that. You didn't give it to the police, did you?" Something sinister crept through the phone and into Beth.

"Not yet . . ."

"Don't! I need you to get the rose and bring it here so he can let me go, okay? This is my only chance!"