Chapter 22

Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.

“Tina‘s on her way here,“ Agent Walker said, almost to himself. But I was just a foot away from him so I heard him, too.

“Tina?” I asked him curiously.

He looked surprised to see me there, even though he’d given me the chair to sit down in. Ever since we’d gotten back to the sheriff’s station, he’d been antsy, like there was more going on than I knew about. Which was probably true, considering I still hadn’t been given many details.

“Tina’s the girl who got away,” he responded quietly. “She was the lone survivor I told you about.”

A sort of nervous energy built up in my chest as I thought about what this meant. If I wanted to learn about Kyle, about why he killed, how he chose his victims, talking to Tina would be the best way to do it.

And she was coming here.

“Can I meet her?” I blurted out.

Agent Walker looked over at me unsure. “I don’t know if that would be a good idea, Emmy,” he said, shaking his head. “She just found out about Kyle, too, which means she’s probably already stressed as it is…”

“Which means she could use someone to talk to,” I prompted. “Someone who kind of gets what she’s going through.”

Agent Walker’s mouth twitched as he kept his eyes on the front door of the station. I could tell he was getting restless.

“Come on,” I said. “It’s gotta be better than leaving her to sit alone with her thoughts. Trust me. I’ll be a welcome distraction.”

Now he studied me as he seemed to weigh this. Finally, he looked away and focused instead on the other cops bustling around the office.

“We’ll see,” was all he said.

It was enough.

“Okay,” I said, taking this as a triumph and changing the subject before he could change his mind. “So, serial killers, huh?”

He snorted and I could swear he almost laughed. Only, it would’ve been out of place here. “Worst segue way ever,” he said, teasingly. “But yeah. Serial killers.”

“Have you always been interested in them?” I asked, pretty sure this was the weirdest conversation I’d ever had. “Or did you just get stuck with this case.”

“Well, I’ve always been intrigued with violent crimes and stuff like that, but I wasn’t sure where they’d stick me when I joined the bureau earlier this year. I guess people don’t typically request this division, and I got lucky.”

I wouldn’t necessarily consider it lucky getting stuck tracking down murderers and rapists, but to each his own.

“Wait, so you’re new to the job?” I asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed that. I mean, I knew you were young, but you seem really comfortable in your role.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve done a lot of training and experienced a lot of stuff in my life, so I feel like I was more prepared than most when I actually went out into the field. I think I was always supposed to do this job, be this person.”

“Which is?” I prompted.

He shrugged. Apparently it was more difficult to put into words. “I don’t know. Someone who catches bad guys. Rights wrongs. Plus, I get to carry a gun and that sort of makes me a badass.” He said this last part jokingly, but I could tell he liked this part of his job, too.

“Aren’t you afraid of being…” I scrambled to come up with a tactful way to put my question; I felt like I hadn’t yet earned the right to ask Agent Walker if he was afraid of dying. “…hurt? I mean, you’re hunting bad guys who’ve killed before. Doesn’t it freak you out?”

“We’re the best of the best,” Agent Walker answered frankly. “And you know what? Only 36 agents have died in the line of duty since the FBI was created over a hundred years ago. Only seven of those were in the past twenty years. So, no. I’m not particularly worried. But if I were to go that way, at least I’d be doing something I believe in.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you do it,” I said honestly. “Seeing dead bodies, going after people who’ve done horrible things. And it’s like, none of it bothers you. I couldn’t shut off my emotions like that.”

I’d spent my whole life trying to create beauty, enriching the lives of people around me. Spending each day surrounded by murder and pain? That didn’t seem like living to me.

“That’s what you think? That we’re devoid of emotion?” Agent Walker asked, flatly. “It’s not that simple, Emmy. If anything, agents are more emotional than regular people. We’re put in these impossible situations and we’re asked to see all the darkness in the world. And then we have to go and live in it. The only way a person can exist after that is to put up a protective wall. A buffer from the sadness and death and chaos. It’s like armor. Without it, you’d find us hiding in a corner somewhere, rocking back and forth and talking to our imaginary friends. We have to be this way to survive.”

After a pause, he continued. “And we do it because we save people’s lives. We make the world a better place. If we didn’t give up our own comfort for the rest of the human race, then I’m scared of what that world would look like. Neither one of us would be here right now, likely.”

I went quiet. I hadn’t meant to offend him or make light of the job he did. Once again, I’d put my foot into my mouth when I hadn’t intended to. And what he’d said was right. Considering the darkness had hit so close to home, I especially, should appreciate people like him more. If not just for the fact that somebody else was out there handling the tough stuff.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I had no idea it was like that for you. You and Agent Landon just seem so…controlled, almost blasé, about all these horrible things. Like it’s not a big deal. But of course. Of course it’s a big deal. And I absolutely respect the job that you do. This world that you live in is just…so different than the one I’m a part of.”

My eyes drifted around the station we were currently sitting in and for the first time, I noticed the grey bricks that made up the interior. Everything was grey, and cold, and hard. Like we were stuck inside an old castle instead of a police station. It was almost surreal.

I was definitely in Agent Walker’s world now.

*     *     *

When Tina walked into the station fifteen minutes later, I was starting to freak out. It had finally hit me that I was inside a police station. And I was fairly sure the bulk of the people in the station at that moment had done very bad things. Probably to people just like me.

So, when the door opened up and a tall black woman walked in, wearing a hoodie over her head and looking slightly disheveled, I kept my eyes glued to the desk I was sitting at.

But then Agent Walker had approached her and guided her into one of the interrogation rooms down the hall. Realizing it must be Tina, I adjusted my clothes, which were still damp from class. I frowned at the kind of impression I was going to make on her, but decided she had bigger things to worry about than my appearance.

Agent Walker came back to retrieve me and then brought me into the room where Tina was waiting. He gestured for me to sit down at the table across from her, and I did so shyly, even though I’d been the one to ask for the meeting.

Closing the door behind him gently, Agent Walker sat down in the empty seat next to me. He slid a cup of tea in front of me and then placed one in front of Tina as well. I grabbed for mine out of habit, and because I wanted something to hold, but Tina didn’t move a muscle. She just stared at me, like she was searching for something. Or trying to figure out what my intentions were.

She startled when Agent Walker finally broke the silence.

“Tina, this is Emmy Bryant. She was also a victim of Mr. Grafton,” he said. Tina winced as he mentioned Kyle’s name. “We brought you both here in light of the news that Kyle has broken out of custody. We want to make sure you both are safe—and I thought it might be helpful if you two met.”

Tina nodded and then looked down at her lap. Almost immediately her eyes shot back up to us, like she was afraid to let us out of her sight for even a second. I almost called it off right then. She was obviously terrified and I didn’t want to drudge everything back up.

It wasn’t right.

“We don’t have to talk or anything—” I started, suddenly feeling guilty. Of course, part of me hoped she would talk. Because I knew that whatever Tina had to say would be valuable to me in some way. That I could learn from her experience. Still, I didn’t want to cause her any more pain. “We can just sit here.”

“It’s okay,” Tina said. I’d expected her voice to be quiet, mousy even, but when it came out, it was shaky yet strong. She looked at me more closely now, like she was only just noticing me. “You’re so young.”

“I’m seventeen,” I responded, happy that she was saying anything.

“I knew he was fucked-up, but going after a kid like you…” Tina shook her head disbelievingly. It looked like it was all she had the energy to do

I looked over at Agent Walker uncomfortably. I thought about lying to her, just to give her some solace, a feeling that she wasn’t totally and completely alone in this, but Tina had been mistreated enough. She deserved my honesty at least.

“I was lucky,” I said, softly. “They caught Kyle before he could really hurt me.”

I watched her face fall as she realized that this agony was still all hers. But then she forced a smile. “Well that’s good at least,” she said, sounding genuine. “I’m glad they were able to save someone from…that monster.”

I snuck a glance over at Agent Walker to see his reaction, but as usual, his face remained unchanged. If he’d been offended by her comment, he wasn’t showing it. I pushed forward.

“The only thing now is that he’s out there again,” I said to Tina, tentatively. “And he knows how to get to me. He knows where I live and where I work. It’s like he knows everything about me. I was hoping that talking to you might…bring some insight into how he works.”

So I don’t become like you.

Tina took a deep breath and seemed to regroup. “Look, that night was the first time I’d met the guy. He didn’t know anything about me except for what I told him, which wasn’t much,” Tina said. “If you’re looking for a reason why this happened to us, I don’t know if there is one. You and I couldn’t be more different.”

I looked at her mocha-colored skin and brown eyes, knowing that she was surveying my tan and freckles. She was right. It’s not like we looked alike. And it sounded like Kyle hadn’t known Tina at all, which meant he hadn’t watched her and followed her every move like he had me.

“But if you think it will help, I’ll tell you what happened,” she said, reluctantly.

“I think it will,” I replied. “Only if you want to, though.”

Tina nodded and looked out the window absently. After a few seconds, she started talking.

“I was on my way home from the gym when my tire blew out and I ran into a ditch. I’m not really all that great with car stuff and didn’t know how to change a tire, let alone maneuver my car back onto the road. So I hailed a car and this guy pulled over and offered to give me a ride to a mechanic.”

“And it was Kyle…er, him who stopped?” I asked her. It was hard to remember that not everyone knew him the way I had.

“That’s what we think,” she said, shrugging. “I never got his name. Didn’t even get a good look at him to be honest. He was wearing a hoodie and was kind of scruffy and it was dark…”

That didn’t sound like Kyle. All the times I’d seen him, he’d been wearing nice clothes and was always clean-shaven. Except for my visit with him in prison, of course. Then, he’d been almost scruffy. Still, we all have our off-days where we let our appearances go, so I knew it was possible this was how he’d looked when Tina had met him.

“Why didn’t you call someone instead of going with Kyle?” I asked her.

Agent Walker kicked my leg under the table as if to warn me, but Tina was too scattered to notice.

“I would’ve, but I was fighting with my boyfriend, and then my phone died, and my car ran off the road, and I just wanted to get home so I could eat a whole pizza and wash it down with a bottle of wine, and forget the whole day,” Tina explained, sounding tired. I wondered if she’d gotten any sleep since it had happened. Could someone even close their eyes voluntarily after experiencing something like that? “I asked the guy—Kyle—if I could use his phone, but he said his was dead, too. That’s actually how I knew something was wrong. Later, when we were driving, he pulled out his phone and started to text someone after he’d already told me that it wasn’t working. I tried to get out then, but he strangled me with something and I passed out. When I woke up, I was in this cabin.”

“A cabin?” I asked, entranced with her story.

“Yeah. But I didn’t know it at first. He’d blindfolded me, so the first thing I saw was darkness,” Tina said, shaking her head. “I had no idea where I was or what had happened, and it took me a few minutes to even remember being in the car with someone. Then I realized my hands were tied together and I was stuck to this chair. Everything hurt. My neck, my face, my legs and…well, I was sore. I knew right away that I’d been raped.”

“I started calling out for help, asking if anyone was there, because I still couldn’t see. I knew we were inside, because the wind wasn’t blowing, but I had no clue where I was. A house, a van, a warehouse…I couldn’t tell. That was the scariest thing. Not knowing where I was or who was there or what was going to happen next.”

She swallowed hard and then continued.

“At first nobody answered me. Then I started hearing noises. Like a metal pinging sound? Then scraping. But still no one was talking. I couldn’t tell if the sounds were coming from far away or somewhere nearby. I had no sense of direction. But then—” Tina’s voice caught in her throat and I wondered if I wanted to hear the rest. “Then I heard it.”

“Heard what?” I asked, leaning forward like we were sharing a secret. An awful secret.

“The voices,” she said. Then she raised her voice a few octaves until it sounded like a little girl’s but was still barely above a whisper. “‘I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna get you.’ He kept saying it over and over, ‘I’m gonna get you.’ I thought maybe I’d made it up at first because it was so quiet. But then it got louder and louder until suddenly he hit me.”

“He hit me over and over again with something hard and metal, like a hammer or something. He kept telling me he wanted to hear me scream. When I’d stop, because I was out of breath or going into shock, he’d play something, clips of other girls screaming. He said they were the screams of the other twelve girls he’d killed. And then he’d hit me again.”

“How did you get away?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach now, but unable to stop. I had to know how this woman who’d been beaten and tortured had found the strength and courage to escape. But more importantly, I wanted to know how Kyle had messed up.

“He started talking to himself in these different voices, like having these conversations. Multiple personalities and shit. One of the voices told the other to leave for a minute and get a sandwich, so he could have some fun alone. The other voice agreed and then I heard him leave. After a few minutes of silence, I took a chance and wriggled my hands out of the ropes. The blood made it slippery, so it was easier to get out. When I lifted the blindfold, I saw that I was alone, but I didn’t know for how long. I saw his tools lying out on the floor. Ice-picks, knives, a sledgehammer, a wire hanger that had been unraveled and curved like a noose, pliers, some kind of scooper…It was horrible. Then I ran and didn’t look back.”

I shook my head in disbelief. Her story was horrifying but incredible. How she’d managed to save herself when she’d been through all of that was beyond my comprehension. I wasn’t sure I could’ve done the same.

“Did he say why he went after you?” I asked her tentatively.

Tina hadn’t cried the entire time she told me her story, but now, a tear streamed down her face. She quickly wiped it away and her face went hard again.

“Nuh-uh,” Tina said. “I just assumed he was part crazy and part mad that I didn’t seem interested in him. He was sort of flirting with me at first, but I told him I had a boyfriend and he got all defensive, saying he had a girlfriend, too. I was sort of surprised to hear him mention another girl since he was hitting on me, but guys are dogs—they do that shit all the time. He seemed like the kind of guy who maybe doesn’t take rejection well?”

I wondered if Kyle had been talking about me when he’d told Tina he had a girlfriend. It made me sick to think I’d had any part in his twisted game.

I shook my head sorrowfully. What were you supposed to say to that? “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Tina,” I said finally, knowing it couldn’t possibly be enough, but it was all I had.

“Look, Emmy,” Tina said, breaking through my thoughts. “I’ve been trying to figure this out since that awful night. I ask myself every second of every day: why me? What did I do to deserve that? What should I have done differently? But I don’t know if I’ll ever get an answer. And honestly, I’m not sure it’s as important as keeping him from doing it again.”

I agreed with her there. Whatever Kyle’s reasoning was for choosing his victims, it didn’t matter much once he had them in his clutches. Because then, it was all about the kill.

“My advice? Go somewhere he can’t find you,” she said seriously. “Because if he does, it’ll already be too late.”

*          *          *

We drove home in silence. I didn’t know what to say. Hearing the details of what Tina had been through made everything so much more real. The fear, the torture, the abuse. I just kept going over and over it all in my head, unable to block it out.

He’d blindfolded me, so the first thing I saw was darkness.

I knew right away that I’d been raped.

Ice-picks, knives, a sledgehammer, a wire hanger that had been unraveled and curved, pliers, a scooper…  

I’m gonna get you.

When Agent Walker finally turned on the radio, I welcomed the noise, because it almost drowned out the visions in my head.

Almost.

We pulled up to my apartment and Agent Walker put the car into park. He looked over at me like he was trying to figure out what to say. I just sat there, zoning out. He leaned over and turned down the volume on the music that was blaring out of his speakers. I recognized the song that was playing: Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. My younger brother, Donny, had gone through a phase as a kid where he would only listen to music from the seventies. He’d always been a strange kid, so this kind of thing was pretty typical of him. Bohemian Rhapsody was big back then and Donny had played it on repeat for a few days straight, until my sister Denise had gotten so sick of it that she took his iPod and broke it. Of course, Donny had just bought the song on iTunes and played it off his computer. This song had single-handedly started World War III in the Bryant house.

Once again I debated calling my parents and letting them know what was going on, but shut the thought down almost immediately. The fact was, it would only worry them. Then they’d insist I come home, we would argue, and eventually I’d have to remind them that they had no legal control over me. We’d all end up feeling horrible about it. Me, because I hated stressing out my parents, and them because there’d be nothing they could do to make the situation better.

 As much as I could’ve used hearing my mom’s soothing words, I wouldn’t do that to her. Some burdens were meant to be carried alone.

“You okay?” Agent Walker asked, coaxing me out of my thoughts.

I twisted my head until I was looking at him. His eyes were wide and fixed on me like he was concerned. His lips were pushed out like he’d just said the word “Oh,” which I’d grown to recognize as his “thinking face.”

“Emmy?” he asked again.

I shook my head and looked away. 

“I’m fine,” I said. But it wasn’t true.

“You remember I’m an FBI agent, right? I can tell you’re not fine,” he answered.

I studied him. How was he acting so normal after what we’d just heard? I remembered what he’d said about doing things in order to survive. He didn’t let his emotions run his life. If he did, he’d be catatonic. Sort of how I felt right now.

I couldn’t afford to become paralyzed by life. Not when Kyle was out there.

If I was going to survive this, I had to take my emotions out of things. I needed to be more like Agent Walker.

And a little change might do me good. I’d realized lately that much of my life had been operated under a thin veil of denial. Denial about the fact that I wasn’t fully in control of everything in my life. That if I just worked hard enough for what I wanted, it could be mine. That bad things didn’t happen to good people. That I was impenetrable.

It was becoming painfully clear that none of this was true.

“You’re right. I’m not okay,” I admitted with a sigh. “I have no idea how to keep Kyle from getting to me. Doing the same things he did to Tina.”

“Well, first off, you’re not doing this alone. Like I said earlier, you’ll have round-the-clock detail on you until we catch Grafton. And we will catch him, Emmy,” he said, a ferociousness to his voice that made me want to believe him.

I knew it wasn’t enough though.

“And I appreciate that, but I’d feel a whole lot better if I also knew how to protect myself. Not just from Kyle, but after this is over,” I said, slowly.

Agent Walker took a deep breath as he studied the road ahead. For a second I wondered whether he’d change his mind about sharing this information with me. Finally he spoke.

“You could start by locking your doors,” he said.

“I do lock my doors…when I leave the apartment,” I said.

Most of the time.

“But you don’t lock them when you’re inside the apartment?” he asked.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” I said, shrugging. My parents had always left the doors to our house unlocked while I was growing up. I guess I’d started doing the same once I was living on my own. “I figured I’d hear someone if they were coming in.”

“And then what? You’d hide under your bed? Or just scream as the guy came at you?”

“That wouldn’t happen—” I started.

“It happens every day,” he said, cutting me off. “Emmy, you are the most valuable thing in your place. Not your belongings. Not your ballet gear or jewelry or your money. You. Don’t make it any easier for someone to get to you. Lock your doors. Always.”

He was right. I thought about all the times that Zhara had snuck into my apartment when I was in the bathroom and I hadn’t heard him. He’d tell me about it sometime later, divulging that he’d borrowed food or a piece of music. Once he’d even come in and danced at my barre while I was sleeping.

If Kyle had wanted to come in without my knowing it, he could’ve. He could’ve watched me sleep from my closet, gone through my underwear drawer, laid in my bed…

“Fine,” I said, embarrassed to admit he was right.

Agent Walker nodded. “Next: Don’t trust people you don’t know.”

“You expect me to trust you and we barely know each other,” I argued. “I’ve never seen an FBI badge before. The one you guys showed me could’ve been a fake for all I know.”

Agent Walker thought about this for a moment.

“You’re right. It could’ve been fake, and it’s true that you don’t know me at all,” he agreed. “You shouldn’t trust me yet. You should be making me earn that trust. Make me prove I am who I say I am. Did you search for me online? Contact the FBI to make sure they had an Agent Walker or Agent Landon?”

“Well, no—wait, you can do that?” I asked, surprised to hear the FBI would divulge that information to any random person. I thought they were all hush, hush, only giving out details to people on a need-to-know basis.

“Of course you can,” he said, like he was talking to a three-year-old. “You have the right to make sure you’re safe. You should never take people at their word. Even law enforcement. Some serial killers have dressed up or impersonated cops to get to their victims. It’s an easy tactic, because nobody questions them and people will do whatever they say.”

“Okay, what else?” I asked.

“Switch up your habits,” he continued. “Never walk the same way home. Don’t go out to the same place for coffee, the same time every day. Don’t create habits that someone can catch on to. It makes you easier to follow. And stalk. And if you do create habits, don’t get comfortable. Don’t put your headphones in and then zone out while walking down the street by yourself. You want to be able to hear someone coming up behind you. And be aware of your surroundings. Don’t get so distracted that you don’t know who’s around you at all times and how you can get away.”

My mind was racing with all the information he was throwing at me. Who knew it took this much to keep yourself safe? I felt scared and paranoid, but also ashamed. I’d done all of the things that he mentioned at one time or another, and I’d never even given it a second thought.

“When you go out anywhere alone or with someone you don’t know very well, always tell someone where you’ve gone. If you accept a ride from an acquaintance, text a friend the license plate number. If you’re heading out to take a walk, leave a note saying where you went and at what time. Have friends that you can confide in, so they know who to suspect if anything happens to you. Leave trails behind you to help us do our job if it ever comes to that. Make yourself a difficult target. Most criminals won’t want to get involved with you if it’s going to end up being a lot of work for them.”

A scary thought began to form in my head. Had I been asking for Kyle to focus on me? Was I partly to blame for my predicament? Had I practically signed my own death warrant?

“Okay,” I said with a deep breath, trying to take it all in. “I’ll try to work on…everything.”

Agent Walker glanced back over at me and then gave me a sympathetic smile. “Hey, you aren’t the only one who needs a reality check. Few people your age make safe choices all the time. In fact, it’s a wonder any of us make it out of adolescence alive,” he said with a chuckle.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I said, groaning.

“What you’ve got to understand is that even if you knew all of this before, chances are it wouldn’t have changed what happened with Kyle. He’s a pro, Emmy. There’s a reason he was able to kill seventeen girls before we caught him. He’s good at deceiving people and he’s incredibly motivated,” he said. “Just be careful and do what we ask you to. None of us want there to be a number eighteen. Trust me, the last one was bad enough.”