Forgive or Forget

Chapter 21

-Cheryl-

I pull up to the curb in front of a condemned building. It's a brick, three-story, broken-down building with all of the windows boarded up. I look around. My client must be running late, so I take in my surroundings. There's not a lot of foot traffic in this area. I guess that my client must have bought this building dirt cheap and wants to flip it. I look at the rundown architecture and see the building's possibilities run through my mind.

I'm startled when my driver's side door opens, and I'm pulled out of my seat by my hair.

"What the hell?" I scream.

I place my hands where my attacker had his hand wrapped around my hair in an attempt to ease the pull of his grasp. My ass hits the pavement hard as he starts dragging me away from my vehicle. I scramble to my feet and stumble with him in the direction he's forcing me. I can't see my abductor because he has my head down. He takes my head and slams it against a vehicle. Everything goes black.

***

I don't know how long I was out. All that I can feel is my head pounding from the hit I took against a car. What the hell just happened? I reach my hand up to my injury, only to realize that my hands behind my back are tied. As my eyes get acclimated to the darkness surrounding me, I can see that I'm in the trunk of a car. I can feel my heart racing out of control as I feel myself panicking. I try to take deep breaths to calm myself down to think through this shitty situation.

Once I get my racing heart and staggered breathing under control, I process my dire circumstances. The vehicle is moving. I hate that I don't know how long I was out. I have no clue how far away I am from my car. I have no purse, which means no identification and no phone. Shit! I always keep my phone in my pocket, but I placed it into my cup holder after I had used it.

I remember something on the news about how to escape from a trunk. The only thing that I can remember is to kick out the taillights. I work on maneuvering myself to have my foot at the light's location when the vehicle slows down to a stop. I only get one kick at the light when I hear the car door open. Damn it!

I try to lay perfectly still as I hear footsteps approaching the back of the car, where I'm helplessly waiting for the next round of abuse by whoever this asshole is. I want to prepare myself for any chance I may have to escape.

I hear the clink of the latch release. The trunk slowly opens, and the smirk on the face of my kidnapper is one I know all too well. Fucking Todd Matthews. Of course, I should've known that he would pull something like this. If I wasn't 100% sure before, I am now. Todd murdered Patty, and I'm about to be his next victim.

***

-Reed-

I had just given Detective Riggs the address that Kandie texted to me. I can see a look on his face that disturbs me before his face goes back to calm and collected. I don't know enough about what this address' location entails, but I feel uneasy that it's not in the best part of the city.

"Didn't you say you moved to Baltimore to be with your wife?" he asks me.

I answer, "Yes. I met my wife while I was on business here in the city. She co-owns KC Designs with her best friend, Kandie, in Baltimore. So when we planned on getting married, it made the most sense for me to move here."

"The Kandie you spoke with on the phone?" he asks.

"Yes," I replied.

"So your wife is originally from Baltimore." He continues, and I wonder where he's going with this line of questioning.

"Yes, she is," I answered.

The detective furrows his eyebrows. "I'm guessing that she would be familiar with this neighborhood."

I shrug. "Most likely. Is it a terrible part of the city? Give me the truth, please, no sugarcoating it."

He sighs before he answers me, "It's the worst."

My heart drops. "Why would Cheryl agree to meet the client there if it was so bad?" I ask myself out loud, but the detective answers me.

"I guess that it's because it's during the day," he said.

I slowly nod. "That makes sense, I guess."

"I'll send a patrol car to the address to check it out. Do you mind waiting here with me to continue the interview? You'll know as soon as we have any information," he promises me.

I think for a moment. What I want to do is get the hell out of here and check out the fucking address myself.

It's as if the detective can read my mind. "There are usually officers that patrol that area regularly. They can be at the address in a few minutes, which will take at least twenty minutes."

I nod my head in understanding. He calls to have the officers ride by the address Kandie gave me. He hangs up and looks at me. "What do you want to know?" I ask.

"Anything and everything you can tell me about Todd Matthews." He gives me a severe look.

I take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand, but I can't shake this ache in my chest regarding Cheryl's whereabouts.

I tell Detective Riggs all about how Todd and I grew up. "Todd and I met in grade school in the middle of the school year when Todd moved into the district. We became instant friends because of our mother's shared experience leaving us at a young age. We're pretty much inseparable from that point on. Neither one of us wanted to settle down, and we liked to play the field. We never had girlfriends, but we did have a type. We loved blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls. We used to have a bet of who could get the best-looking blonde and who could, um, you know, seal the deal first."

I'm embarrassed by my previous behavior with women. "That is till I met Cheryl, and my life changed completely."

"Would Todd ever have any reason to be here in Baltimore?" He looks up at me from his notes.

I think for a second. "Yeah, Todd has done some construction jobs here in the city. If I were here on business, we would hang out."

"Do you know any dates when you or Todd would be here in Baltimore beginning about four years ago?" He continues with his questioning.

"I can give you the dates that I had business here. I don't think that I could give you the dates Todd was here working," I reply honestly.

The detective shakes his head. "It's a start. You did say that he would join you when you were here as well."

I'm unsure why the detective needs this information, so I ask him outright. "Not that I mind, but why do you need this information?"

The detective thinks for a long moment before he responds to my question. "I believe that your friend is a serial killer."

*****