There was a car parked in the drive.
A classic Porsche convertible with the top down and personalized plates: LKY DOG
Lucky Dog.
Trey Hughes.
36
Obviously, they went in there and set up the tape and the timer before they even made the last ransom call,' Landry said.
They had gathered in a conference room: himself and Weiss; Dugan and Armedgian. Major Owen Cathcart, head of the Investigations Division, had joined the gathering and would act as liaison to Sheriff Sacks. Completing the group were Bruce and Krystal Seabright, and a woman from Victim Services whose name Landry hadn't caught.
The Vic Services woman and Krystal Seabright sat off to the side of the group, Krystal shivering like a Chihuahua, her eyes sunken, her hair a bleached fright wig. Bruce had been none too happy to see her there, insisting she go home and let him handle things. Krystal pretended not to hear him.
'There hasn't been an event at that facility in the last three weeks,' Weiss said. 'The place is kept locked up, but we're talking padlocks. Security has never been an issue because of the location. But it wouldn't be hard to break in.'
'Any fingerprints?' Cathcart asked.
'A few hundred,' Landry said. 'But none on the audiotape, none on the videotape, none on the timer, none on the tape deck…'
'And is someone trying to get that tape to sound like a real human being?'
'They're working on it,' Dugan said.
'And what's on the videotape? Let's see it.'
Landry hesitated, glancing at Krystal and the Vic Services woman. 'It's pretty rough, sir. I don't know that the family-'
'I want to see it,' Krystal said, speaking up for the first time.
'Krystal, for God's sake,' Bruce snapped as he paced behind her. 'Why would you want to see it? The detective just told you-'
'I want to see it,' she said with more force. 'She's my daughter.'
'And you want to see some animal attack her? Rape her? That's what you're saying, aren't you, Landry?' Bruce said.
Landry moved his jaw. Seabright set his teeth on edge. If he got through this case without popping the guy in the face, it was going to be a miracle.
'I said it's pretty rough to watch. There's no rape, but Erin takes a beating. I wouldn't recommend you watch it, Mrs. Seabright.'
'There's no reason, Krystal-' Bruce started. His wife interrupted him.
'She's my daughter.'
Krystal Seabright stood up, her trembling hands clasped in front of her. 'I want to see it, Detective Landry. I want to see what my husband has done to my daughter.'
'Me?' Bruce turned red in the face and made a choking sound in his throat like maybe he was having a heart attack. He looked at the cops in the room. 'I am nothing but a victim in this!'
Krystal turned on him. 'You're as guilty as the people who took her!'
'I'm not the one who brought the cops into this! They said no cops.'
'You wouldn't have done anything,' Krystal said bitterly. 'You wouldn't even have told me she was gone!'
Seabright looked embarrassed. His mouth quivered with bad temper. He stepped closer to his wife and lowered his voice. 'Krystal, this is neither the time nor the place to have this discussion.'
She ignored him, looking instead at Landry. 'I want to see the tape. She's my daughter.'
'As if you ever cared,' Bruce muttered. 'A cat is a better mother than you.'
'I think it's important for Mrs. Seabright to see at least part of the tape.' The Vic Services woman put her two cents in. 'You can always ask them to stop it at any point, Krystal.'
'I want to see it.'
Krystal walked forward, teetering unsteadily on leopard print stiletto heels. She looked as fragile as a glass ornament, as if one tap would shatter her into a million gaudy-colored slivers. Landry moved to take her by the arm. The Vic Services woman then finally got up off her wide ass to help, to come and stand beside Krystal Seabright and offer support.
'This is against my better judgment, Mrs. Seabright,' Dugan said.
Krystal looked at him, eyes bugging out. 'I want to see it!' she shouted. 'How many times do I have to say it? Do I have to scream? Do I have to get a court order? I want to see it!'
Dugan held up a hand in surrender. 'We'll play the tape. Just tell us when to stop it, Mrs. Seabright.'
He nodded to Weiss, and Weiss fed the tape into the VCR that sat with a twenty-one-inch TV on a cart at the front of the room.
Everyone was silent as the video image faded in to a scene inside a bedroom in what looked to be a trailer house. The window gave it away: a cheap aluminum frame around filthy glass. Someone had taken a finger and written on the dirty pane: HELP, the letters backward so the word could be read from outside the trailer.
It was night. One lamp with a bare lightbulb lit the scene.
Erin Seabright sat naked on a filthy, stained mattress with no sheets, chained to the rusty iron frame of the bed by one wrist. She was hardly recognizable from the girl Landry had seen only in a photograph. Her lower lip was split and crusted with dried blood. Mascara ringed her eyes. There were red welts and bruises on her arms and legs. She sat with her knees pulled up, trying to cover as much of her nakedness as she could. She looked directly at the camera, tears streaming down her face, her eyes glassy with terror.
'Why won't you help me? I asked you to help me! Why can't you just do what they say?' she asked, a thread of hysteria quivering through her voice. 'Do you hate me that much? Don't you know what he's going to do to me? Why won't you help me?!'
'Oh, my God,' Krystal murmured. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. 'Oh, my God, Erin!'
'We warned you,' the metallic voice said, the words drawn out, low and slow and slightly garbled. 'You broke the rules. The girl will be punished.'
A figure dressed in black from head to toe stepped into the frame from behind the camera-black mask, black clothes, black gloves-and moved toward the bed. Erin began to whimper. She shrank back on the bed, huddling against the wall, trying to hide, trying to cover her head with her free arm.
'No! No!' she screamed. 'It's not my fault!'
The figure struck her with a riding whip. Landry felt himself flinch at the sound of the whip connecting with bare flesh. The whip came down again and again with vicious force on her arms, her back, her legs, her buttocks. The girl screamed again and again, a horrible piercing shriek that went through Landry like an ice pick.
Dugan stopped the tape without being asked.
'My God,' Bruce Seabright muttered. Turning away, he rubbed a hand over his face.
Krystal Seabright fell against the Victim Services woman, trying to cry, but no sound coming out of her open mouth. Landry caught hold of one of her arms, Weiss caught the other, and they moved her toward a chair.
Bruce Seabright stood where he was, the asshole, staring at this woman he had married, looking like he was wondering if he could call it quits on that deal right there and then.
'I told you it would only upset you,' he said.
Krystal sat on the chair, doubled over, her face in her hands, her pink skirt halfway up her thighs.
Landry turned his back to her, stepped up to Bruce, and said in a low voice, 'If you could crawl out of your own asshole for three seconds, a little faked compassion would be a good thing right now.'
Seabright had the gall to be offended.
