William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

“I didn’t like that funny smell. I like Susan smell better.”

Good thing I knew he was autistic. Otherwise I might have him arrested.

We didn’t know that Tiffany was dead. But I still found my voice choking, my eyes tingling, throughout the interview. Was this the first time I’d done something like this since David? Or perhaps, was this the first time I’d done something like this sober since David?

“It seemed such an innocent, harmless activity,” Mrs. Glancy said. “Cheerleading camp. What could happen?”

It’s not your fault, I wanted to tell the woman. But it wasn’t my place. “The team sponsor says she and the others disappeared after dinner. Around nine.”

“And that is so unlike Tiffany.” She dabbed her eyes. She was medium-sized and of medium weight, with a pleasant face that had probably aged twenty years in the last twenty hours. She did all the talking. Her husband was a physician, and like most doctors I had encountered, words were not his best thing. He sat beside her, not speaking, barely moving. Stunned.

Tiffany was their only child.

“She’s never run off before?”

“Of course not,” the mother said. “Tiffany is a good girl. Responsible. She’s on the honor roll, you know.”

“I, um, didn’t.”

“She’s not just some dumb blond cheerleader,” her father said, speaking for the first time. Apparently this was a point he felt compelled to make. “She had a real head on her shoulders.”

“And so kind,” the woman continued. “So considerate of others.” Her face flattened for a moment. “I’ll bet it was that JJ’s idea. I never cared much for her.”

“That was one of her friends, right?” I checked my files. “One of the other cheerleaders who disappeared.”

“I often told Tiffany she should be more careful. People judge you by your friends. But you know girls that age. They don’t listen. Do you have a girl that age?”

“Niece,” I offered.

“Oh, well then, you know. They don’t listen. Not a bit. Even the smart ones.”

Darcy sat in an overstuffed chair, picking at the armrest. I knew he was uncomfortable. All this misery-he absorbed it like a sponge. He might not understand emotion, but in a way, that could increase the discomfort of being around it. I just hoped he wouldn’t have another breakdown. I couldn’t deal with that now.

“Does she have any friends in Las Vegas?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Does she have an interest in gambling?”

“Of course not.”

“Rock and roll? There are several rock stars playing the Strip this week.”

“She’s more interested in Broadway. Show tunes, you know.”

“Does she like to… dress up?” Had to tread carefully here. But I hadn’t forgotten that Helen had a secret life her mother knew nothing about. It was possible this one did, too. Possible they both made the same mistake that put them in Edgar’s clutches.

“Dress up? How?”

“Oh… provocatively. Sexy.”

“My Tiffany would never do that.”

I had to push. “Those cheerleading skirts are usually pretty short.”

“That’s entirely different. That’s a sign of school spirit.”

Mmmm. “You think she’d have any interest in sex clubs?”

Mrs. Glancy clutched her bosom. “I-I-never-!” She looked at her husband, who was no use at all. “Are you planning to help our Tiffany or destroy her reputation?”

“I’m planning to find her, ma’am. And that means I need to know as much about her as possible.”

Dad cleared his throat. “I think maybe I should call Dick Conners.”

The family lawyer, no doubt. That would gum up the works. And frankly, I didn’t have the time. Not with the clock on these girls already ticking. “Does she have any hobbies? Interests?”

The woman was still glaring at me, but she eventually answered. “She likes to collect Dumbo figurines. You know, the flying elephant. She must have a hundred of them. And she wants to be a policewoman.”

That’s one you didn’t hear every day. “Tiffany wants to be a cop?”

“Yes. Especially after nine-eleven. She always has been very respectful, even worshipful, around our public servants. Heroes, she calls them. Police, firefighters. All that.”

A cheerleading policewoman. Couldn’t hurt. “Is she friendly? Outgoing? Would she talk to strangers?”

“Very friendly. But I would hope she has the sense not to talk to someone she doesn’t know. Especially in Las Vegas.”

I folded up my notepad. This was getting nowhere. Time to search the girls’ room. They would protest-I might even have to sit through a phone call to Dick Conners-but eventually they would relent. Because whatever their faults or foibles, they wanted their little girl back. And they knew the longer she was gone, the less likely that became. As did I.

It was nice being with Susan again. She’s almost like she used to be before the Bad Man took her but sometimes her hands shake and I can tell her stomach hurts and she looks like she’s going to cry but her smell is better and she’s back and she let me read to her while she drove the car. I wish I could drive the car but they wouldn’t let me get a license and I know I could do it but not unless they let me try and maybe Susan would let me after we catch the Bad Man and her hands don’t shake so much anymore. I know she likes me. I know she likes me.

Next time I’m going to ask her about babies.

Tiffany was the strongest, as it turned out. Who would have guessed that the spoiled rich girl would be the most resilient of the threesome? Hidden depths, he supposed. Dark secrets such as the prophet often saw lurking just beneath the surface. But those depths held dangers. They had to be eliminated.

He’d taken her through the entire “Pit and the Pendulum” scenario, just as he had the other two. But whereas Judy and JJ had disintegrated into hysteria, Tiffany had kept hold of her senses, even after the blade gave her a few rather significant slices. She had remained defiant, even through her pain.

Additional measures were required.

When Tiffany awoke, she found herself strapped to the table, still naked. It was amazing, he noted, how nakedness and physical discomfort increased their vulnerability. He had made the room positively frigorific, so much so that her body was covered with goose pimples.

“Good morning, Tiffany.”

“You can’t hurt me,” she said through dry and cracked lips.

“I’m glad to hear that, my dear. It will make what I have to do next so much less trying. Are my hands cold?”

He pressed the palms of both hands down on her abdomen. She flinched.

“I feared they might be. Hard to keep warm this time of year. The temperature is having a rather remarkable effect on your body.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, you sick fuck, but it isn’t going to work! I’ll never do what you want. If you’re going to rape me, then go ahead and do it. Get your filthy rocks off so I can get out of here!”

“My dear Tiffany, you mistake my intentions altogether. And you have a mouth like a sewer.”

“You’re a disgusting little creep. I bet your thing is just as short as you are. That’s probably why you have to get your thrills hurting teenage girls.”

“My darling-”

“Where’re Judy and JJ? What have you done to them?”

“They’re in another room.”

“Are you torturing them, too?”

“Not at all. They’re being quite compliant. Only you are-”

“Then let me see them!”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible yet. But in time-”

She twisted and strained against the straps, trying with all her might to get free.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back to the table. “You’ve cut yourself.” He pointed to an abrasion across her left breast, just above the nipple.