The Coffin Maker

Chapter 20

Ailsa was aware of the psychological effect that being held against her will would have on Riley, the anxiety, nausea, panic attacks, the hopelessness of an uncontrollable situation, at the mercy of another human being deciding whether you live or die; the uncertainty...do my parents know I have been kidnapped? The isolation, the collapse of her social identity, followed by acute distress and depression; all aggravated by malnourishment to the brink of starvation. She understood it was vital to alleviate the young woman's stress level.

"Riley, for people who find themselves in your situation, the isolation and uncertainty can prove overwhelming and be damaging to their health. I want you to shed any feelings of uncertainty you may harbor. Your parents are aware that someone abducted you against your will. You mustn't feel guilt or speculate on other scenarios. I can tell you that the police and the FBI started looking for you a few hours following your disappearance. Your friends rallied and started a social media campaign. A kind and caring couple hired me to find you. I found you, that's a good thing and it proves that others can find us. The best investigators in the country are working to find you, Riley Pacocha. They will follow my trail and free us shortly."

They talked for a long time. Ailsa encouraged her to sip on the bottled water but it worried her that the girl was frail and the bottle was nearing empty. Ailsa did most of the talking and asked questions in a manner that required short answers. She asked Riley about school, her close friends and her athletic achievements. Ailsa said she had done some running in high school and had played mid-fielder on the soccer team that once made it through the state bracket to the semi-final. She thought she saw a look of hope overtake the blank stare in Riley's eyes just before the girl drifted into sleep.

Ailsa speculated about her own disappearance. The offender had grabbed her from behind while she peered out the window of the garage where Edmond Crowley stored his antique cars. He had rendered her unconscious but she did not feel groggy, so he hadn't drugged her. She calculated she was probably out for only a few minutes. She recalled the forensic and pathology reports on Kalita and McMahon and how traces of duct tape adhesive was found on the dead girls' faces, hands, and ankles indicating they were bound and gagged during transport. He did not bind me, she thought. Therefore, his lair must be somewhere close, maybe even on the Crowley estate. Can it be that the Crowley's gardener has hidden us in the basement of some old forgotten building on the estate, the perfect hideaway visited twice a week during his landscape calls; Bunny and Edmond Crowley none the wiser that the killer they pursue is right under their noses. James and Li Li will figure it out, she hoped. Without her phone, she lost track of time. I should have counted the number of episodes of the taped programming on the television. The soundless television was showing Hogan's Heroes reruns. She fell asleep in the chair.

***

Ailsa guessed almost two days had passed. Her throat was parched, her tongue pasty. She had a splitting headache. Riley had drunk all the remaining water. Ailsa knew the young girl was in a bad way. Suddenly, the clack and clamor of the dumbwaiter shattered the silence of the underground tomb. Ailsa crossed the room and grabbed the handle of the small stainless steel door. Behind it, a brown cafeteria tray displayed the offering. On it, there was a bottle of water, a kid's sized apple juice box and clear broth in a sealed container. A single serving orange Jell-O and a plastic spoon crowned the meager serving. That is the entire meal that my pole dance has yielded, thought Ailsa. She wondered if she would have to go beyond dancing to keep her and Riley alive.

Ailsa helped Riley sip the broth and fed her some Jell-O with the plastic spoon. The girl slept again, awoke and drank some juice. A few hours later, Ailsa thought some color had returned to her face when she proffered a weak smile. Ailsa felt better too after some water and her half of the juice. Suddenly, she thought she could hear something that sounded like a high pitch whine from a machine. It was faint and sporadic like somebody turning a motor on and off. Ailsa pressed her ear against the cool cinder block wall and listened. The sound was clearer and the short bursts and the high-pitched whine reminded her of her father's workshop on the farm. There was no mistaking the sound... a table saw. My God! He is building another coffin! Oh James, please hurry!