victim 18 Post 13

We stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for two weeks before we had to go home. When we got back the first thing Grandma O’Malley did was to take me shopping for a new wardrobe. We were all over town at this mall and that; reading fashion magazines and trying to match up styles. It was the first time I had ever been allowed to try on let alone wear skirts above my knee and Grandma made sure they were all well above my knees.”

“Now Wren, you're not going to attract the boys' attention if you dress like your mother. Show some leg let a little skin show here and there, tease them a little, they like that.”

“As much as her choice of skirts and shorts caught me off guard her idea of tops really got me. I knew Grandma wasn’t a prude but some of the tops just weren’t practical. But in the end she was right the boys did pay more attention to me. Starting a new school with a different wardrobe and a different home life gave me a confidence I had never experienced. I became popular, had friends, got a job, bought a car, and was admired by most of the guys. Yet most felt I was unattainable, that a girl like me was out of their league. It was nice though to date a guy for a while and when he started getting too frisky move on to another. In ways I was a little like my mother, I used them until I had used up their fun then leave em in a cloud of dust. I wasn’t real concerned with finding a long term relationship, I just wanted to have fun.

I got my first bike in my senior year after I broke off another relationship early into it. He had a bike and that was the only endearing quality he had. But I loved the feeling of freedom that the bike offered. I took a riding course and went all over the place on that bike. I took it up to Grandma and Grandpa Robbins ranch several times. That’s where a cousin introduced me to motorcycle racing. I didn’t care for the off road stuff but the track racing that was a different story. But then you knew that I raced whenever I could without interfering with school. You know I’ve actually considered going on the circuit and turning pro. It’s the only thing that appeals to me as much is archeology. It became my all consuming passion in college and still calls to me as much as my bike.”

“That would be a hard pair to juggle though, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would be. One is satisfying mentally because in your labor you find meaning and answers. The other because it is physically and emotionally demanding brings you focus of mind, and in its own sense brings you closer to Zen.”

With this last word Wren sits staring out of her kitchen window for sometime. After a while her lower lip starts a slight trembling and a tear can be seen trickling down her face.

“Wren, how about lunch and we pick up a few things at my place for tomorrow?”

“That’s fine Norman I’m starting to feel a little restless anyway.”

It's nightfall when they return to Wren’s house with dinner.

“Hey Norman, if you could take care of those tater tots I’ll go light the grill for the burgers.”

“Alrighty I can handle that.”

Wren takes the hamburger and some spices out the back door while Norman turns on the oven then starts looking through the kitchen cabinets. She comes back in to wash her hands as he dumps the tots on the pan and puts them in the oven. She heads back out to the grill leaving Norman to his task not returning until the hamburgers are done.

“Norman! What are you doing!”

He jumps and quickly spins around at the sound of fury in Wren’s voice.

“You’re going to burn the tater tots!”

He had been so engrossed in the photo before him that he hadn’t noticed that the buzzer on the oven had been going off. A photo of a motorcycle in the middle of a race track with a large trophy standing in front of it and a woman on top of it. The woman in a reclined position one of her high heeled feet resting flat upon the back edge of the seat her nearer leg stretched out off the bike. Her bottom at the junction of the gas tank and the seat, her arms reaching behind her holding onto the hand-grips. Her head leaning back so she is looking straight out in front of the machine. She’s holding her body in a high arch over the tank, her bikini barely hiding her chest, her ribs and very tight flat belly fully exposed.

He stands there and watches Wren pull the pan from the oven and put it on top of the stove burners.

“Now what is so interesting that it has your absolute and undivided attention.”

“I’m sorry Wren, I know I shouldn’t have got it out without asking but my curiosity just took over.”

A very puzzled Wren steps up beside Norman and looks down at the table.

“I see. Well, you found my old portfolio.”

“You never told me you had been a model.”

“I wasn’t, well not really. This picture was taken after I won the race that day.”

“Aren’t pictures like that usually taken of the person in their riding gear while holding their helmet in one hand or something like that?”

“Yeah, but in this case I also had won the hot biker bikini contest so I did a couple of shoots on the same day. If you had managed to get past drooling over the first picture you would have seen that the second one is more what you’re describing. Why don’t you fix up your burger and I’ll show you the rest while we eat.”

“So you’re not mad at me for getting this out?”

“Oh!, quite on the contrary I am very upset that you would invade my privacy like that, but at least what you did was harmless.”

They spend the rest of the evening going through Wren’s portfolio with Norman for the first time realizing just how beautiful a girlfriend he really has. The hardest pictures for Wren are the ones from the hunting trips she had taken with her Dad. Her favorites from the two summers she worked exclusively as a model in Europe only to realize she preferred the high speed life of a motorcycle racer to that of the standing silence of a fashion model. They head off to bed early though since they have a lot to do before Norman needed to be at work.

Wren crawls out of bed an hour and a half before the alarm and is dressed with breakfast sitting on the table before Norman is even out of bed

“So you're going to go to work?”

“Just to request some time off.”

“How are you going in? You know it’s supposed to rain today.”

“Well I was kind of hoping you’d let me borrow your truck for that long.”

“I guess you can but I still don’t like the idea of you returning to the scene of the crime.”

“Don’t be such a worrywart, if you’d prefer you could drop me off and wait for me to come back out. Then I could go in and out the front door instead of the back where anyone would be watching for me.”

“I do prefer that idea.”

Norman gets dressed and drives Wren into the city pulling up to the front door of her office.

“Good luck Wren, I’ll be right here when you get done.”

Wren walks into the large glass office building crossing the black granite lobby to the mirror like stainless doors of the elevators. She waits for the car to arrive impatiently tapping her tennis shoe upon the cold granite. When the car arrives she presses the control for the seventh floor and rides up to her office.

“Hey Nancy is Mr. Winslow in yet?”

“Yea he is Wren. How are you? You look like something’s wrong.”

“I don’t really know how I feel Nancy. I've been through quite a bit since Friday.”

“Well, he is in.”

“Mr. Winslow, do you have a few minutes to spare?”

“Sure, come on in Wren. What’s on your mind?”

“Well sir, on Friday I was abducted by the rape gang that has been in the news lately, I was raped and obviously managed to escape. I spent most of Saturday having tests run at a hospital in Rolla and when I returned home that evening I found I had been robbed. The police said it fit there M.O. and feel it was definitely the same group that raped me from the message that was left behind.

So Sir, I need some time to get my life back in order, you know, replace my clothes, file insurance claims, deal with bank accounts. So, I would like to take my week's vacation starting today.”

“Wren I’m sorry but, no. Company policy strictly says I must have three weeks notice to issue vacation time.”

“Well, how about my sick time or just the time off without pay?”

“No Wren I really can’t have you out with so much end of the fiscal year paperwork and I couldn’t let you have the sick time because you're not sick by the corporate definition.”

“Then you leave me no option, I quit effective immediately. Now, if you don’t mind I’ll get an empty box from the copy room, collect my stuff and go.”

“Oh Wren, don’t do that! You have to know my hands are tied.”

“Yea, I know, but I need the time to put my life back together, and if you can’t give me the time then this is my only option. If you really don’t want me to quit at least I know it’s not personal.”

“Well then, I guess if your mind's made up and there is no changing it. I do hate to lose you though, you’re an efficient and accurate worker. Tell you what I’ll write up a letter of reference for you and have it with your last check.”

“Thank you sir, I know you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, my hands are tied in a lot of ways but not my opinions. If you need a hand with your stuff let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to do that sir and just so you know I will probably have a friend of mine pick up my last check for me.”

“Norman?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll know who to expect then.”

Wren leaves his office and walks past Nancy’s now empty desk. She goes back to the copy room and then over to her cubicle.

“It’s hard to believe how much stuff you accumulate in a desk in just over a year. Well, that’s the last of it. I guess half a copy box really isn’t all that bad and I'm done before most anyone else is here.”

She picks up her box of stuff and heads for the elevator thinking to herself as she goes.

“I wonder where I could have seen that girl before. I know the voice but where from? I can still hear her quite clearly:”

“See, I told you I knew where to find a tall attractive redhead for the guys”

“So it stands to reason that if she knew where to find me, then I should know where to find her. Now, I know she isn’t a personal friend, nor a casual acquaintance, yet I know her from somewhere. But where? She isn’t someone I work with, I don’t remember ever seeing her at the gas station, the grocery store, this is silly I have to know her from work or how else would she have known where to find me and that I tended to work later on Friday. Okay, that’s settled. I have to know her from work, but how?

She has to be someone I see but don’t realize I see which means she has to be part of the cleaning crew or...”

Just then as she is waiting on the elevator to go back to the lobby she hears the voice talking to Mr. Winslow. She turns around and makes eye contact with her. With Mr. Winslow’s daughter! Their eyes stay locked together as Wren backs into the car their lock only being broken as the doors shut.

“Now I know who, how, and where.”

She returns to Norman’s truck and puts the small box into the back. Then quickly gets into the front so she can share her new found information with Norman.

“Norman, I know who the voice is!”

“What voice?”

“Remember I said I kept recognizing the one girl's voice. Well, it's Rachel Winslow, my now former boss’s daughter.”

“So you quit?”

“Yes, but listen to me. I know how they picked me and that gives a connection to that gang. I have to tell the police so they can stop this mess. Too many women have gone through what I have already.”



“Alright let's get you over to the police and you can tell them your idea. But then I have to get to the office because I have a client to meet at ten.”

Victim 18 post 12

CHAPTER 4
REVELATIONS

Wren wakes up early the next morning and letting Norman sleep she finds herself some clothes amongst the limited things she keeps here at the house. She showers and dresses then setting her night clothes back into the dresser, heads out to the garage. It isn’t quite daylight and she knows Norman is not a morning person so she has some time before he wakes up. She drops her purse into a backpack, slips the remote door opener into her jacket pocket and straps on her helmet. She throws her leg over her bike and hits the remote; the second the door opens she starts the bike pulling out of the door and closing it as she speeds off down the driveway. It is a warm spring day that holds all the promise of only getting nicer as she heads into Fenton to the store. Being on her bike gives her focus, it washes away the recent nightmares of both waking and sleeping. She feels completely free, a type of freedom that she only ever knew when she was on one of her bikes. She can feel the wind pulling on her jacket as it tries to keep up with her. She can hear the air slipping over her helmet, the slight ticking sound that comes from the visor vibrating against the chin of the helmet. The smooth sound of the tires rolling along the road. All these very familiar things seem almost new to her this morning as she goes on her simple errand.

She pulls into the lot at Dierberg's and parks close to the front by the door, and quickly heads in removing her helmet as she does. She gets a cart, sets her helmet in the seat and places her backpack next to it. She knows the store's layout very well after shopping here for the past four months. She realizes this and wonders to herself, "four months had it really been that long since her Grandma died leaving her the house and everything else?" She picks up a package of bacon, a dozen eggs, and all the makings of a good, big breakfast.

“Paper or plastic?”

“Just put them in the backpack, please.”

She pulls out her purse and hands the pack to the bagger. Out in the lot she pulls the pack on tight and straps down the helmet. The sun is just starting to turn the sky a pale orange as she drives into its beautiful display of color on her way home. She hits the remote in her pocket as she gets in range and pulls straight into the garage. Setting the pack on the kitchen counter she goes back to the bedroom and peeks in around the corner. There is Norman still sound asleep oblivious to her ever being gone.

Back in the kitchen Wren gets out the flour, lard, baking powder and the buttermilk she just picked up. Her skilled hands need no measuring cups; she knows just when enough of each ingredient is in the bowl. Soon with some kneading and rolling she is putting a full pan of biscuits in the hot oven. A batch of bacon is cooking as she is putting the hot biscuits in a hot, cloth covered, glass bowl. Several kitchen towels are then placed over them to hold in the heat. The bacon is finished, the coffee brewing, and gravy from some of the bacon drippings is started, before Norman even emerges from his sleep.

“How long have you been up?”

“For quite a while, sleepy head.”

“You said there wasn’t much to eat here.”

“I ran into town and picked up a few things, I figured you spent enough on me yesterday. How do you want your eggs?”

“Over medium. How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m not really sure, for waking up so early I don’t feel tired and the nervous jitters I had when I woke up left me once I was on my bike. How about you?”

“I’m worried about you and I really didn’t sleep all that well.”

“What are you worried about me for?

“Honestly? I’m afraid of those people finding you and finishing what they started. What was the nightmare about last night?”

“Just the rape replaying in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was remembering when they pinned my legs up and started using my butt. It was so vivid like I was there again. I could feel the pain. I could hear their voices discussing me like some inanimate object. How I felt to them, how I looked, what my mouth felt like and…and well, what I felt like compared to the others. Guessing what my butt would be like, betting on how much I would scream when they started using me there. Remembering how much I concentrated on not making a sound when they penetrated me there. I wish the images would just go away. I wish I could just wake up and find out this whole thing was just a nightmare. But I know I won’t because it isn’t.

Would you hand me a plate from the cabinet over there? Your eggs are done.”

“Here you go. I’m sorry I probably shouldn’t have pried about your dream.”

“No, I should be being more honest with you. As long as we have been together I should be more understanding of your fears.”

“I’m here for you, and I’m willing to listen if you need to talk.”

“I’m not so scared of them finding me. Though I do still have a nagging fear that you might decide to leave me anyway. I’m afraid of what diseases I could have at this point. I’m afraid of what kind of internal damage there might be inside of me.”

“I’ve told you already I’m not going to leave you. Diseases can be treated and they wouldn’t have let you go home if they suspected any internal damage was present.”

“I know all of that but I just have a different set of worries than you do, that's all.”

They sit down to breakfast discussing Wren’s dream as they eat.

“You told me yesterday about your Grandma’s lawyer setting up an emancipation hearing for you, how did that go for you?”

“You don’t miss much do you Norman?”

“Occasionally, but it’s my job not to miss details.”

“Well, he filed a report with the police which kept Mom at bay until he got a temporary court order against her. She called a few times and tried to come over once but Grandma wouldn’t talk to her on advice from Mr. Hardwick. When the emancipation hearing did finally come up it was the middle of summer, my bottom was healed enough I could sit with minimal discomfort and I found out what all the meetings between Grandma and Mr. Hardwick were all about.

It turned out he had hired a private investigator to check with Mom’s neighbors about anything suspicious over the years. Well needless to say they had noticed a lot more than I thought they had and many of them came forward. He also found the contractor who built my discipline room. He testified to removing and closing in the window, and to installing the original built in things. When he was questioned as to whether this project was a little weird for him he said no. He’d built dungeons dozens of times before and after that one but, had he known it’s intended purpose he would have refused the job and turned her in. The hearing took three days and in the end the judge granted the emancipation requested to me.

Afterward Grandma and me went out to dinner where she informed me that she had been in touch with Grandma and Grandpa Robbins. She was to call and let them know how the hearing went and if it went well they expected to see me soon. I called them as soon as we were home. I hadn’t talked to them in the almost two years since dad’s funeral. It was so good to hear their voices on the phone again. They wanted to see me right then and when I asked Grandma O’Malley when it could be possible she floored me with her answer.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow and should be there in two days.”

I hadn’t realized that Grandma had planned and packed for a trip while all this had been going on. As happy as I was to spend the time with Grandma O’Malley I was even more thrilled with seeing Grandma and Grandpa Robbins. After I hung up the phone I helped Grandma load her car with the suitcases, a cooler, and a box of snacks. Then we started making fudge.”

“You started making fudge?”

“Well, Grandma wouldn’t think of showing up without something; it just wouldn’t have been proper. We had fudge cooling all over the place pan after pan. I think we must have made eight or ten pounds of it and we probably ate a pound just in making it. We left early the next morning and spent the night in Sioux Falls. The next morning we were up early again and while I showered Grandma put a box in the bathroom. It had been shipped through the mail and addressed to me. When I opened it I found a traditional buckskin dress and beaded moccasins hand made as is the tradition of my family. I put them on knowing they were from Grandma Robbins. I braided my hair then stepped out into the hotel room looking much like I always did when I visited the ranch. Grandma stared at me for the longest time before she said anything.”

“When I look at you I always see the O’Malley’s and the McGregor’s but now; I see your father.”

"When we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa Robbins’ ranch I was very shocked to see all my aunts, uncles and cousins already there and waiting for me. It was quite a gathering but Grandma O’Malley just waited by the car. So I went back to see what was up.”

“Wren dear, this is your family so I’m going to head back to town and find a room.”

“Now what grandma O’Malley hadn’t realized was that Grandpa Robbins was also curious as to why she stayed there and had come up behind her while we were talking.”

“You will do no such thing. You are our Wren’s family and that makes you our family. Your room is in our home and I will hear no arguments about it.”

“We were up till the very early morning hours that night and most all of us slept out around the remains of the bon-fire that had been set upon my arrival. I woke early the next morning as the sun was just starting up over the horizon and found myself looking straight up into the face of a coyote.”

“Good heavens what did you do?”

“Asked him what his trick was.”

“I don’t get it.”

“A coyote is a trickster, that's how he teaches. And if you ask him what his trick is he has to tell you.

Now uncle Peter heard me, looked around and saw that old coyote. When he stood up it looked at him, looked at me and walked off.

When we all sat down for breakfast my encounter turned into everyone’s big topic of the day. It was decided that if I was willing this was a sign that I should start preparing for my vision quest. It took a lot of explaining to grandma O’Malley for her to know what was going on though. Not that she was slow, mind you but she had a lot to learn very quickly. I spent the next several days preparing myself then early one morning I entered the sweat lodge. With grandma O’Malley right there with me as she had been through all of my preparations. She felt it would help her to understand. When I emerged from the lodge I rinsed my body in the ice cold stream nearby. Then wrapped only in a buffalo robe I was led to my vision spot. Grandma after going this far was also wrapped in a similar robe and led somewhere else. My vision spot was at the top of a small hill deep within the Bad Lands. Once there I spread out the buffalo robe upon the ground, placed my offerings to the great spirit around me and sat upon the robe. In time I saw many, many things while I was there. Ancient peoples long since gone from the earth. Forgotten cities swallowed up by the earth and time. My own ancestors came and spoke with me.”

“So you sat up there through a hallucinogenic trip?”

“NO! There are no drugs used in a vision quest! Drugs are nothing more than a shortcut that more often than not leads you down the wrong path. A true vision quest is just you, purified, sitting within the gifts of God. Waiting, opening your heart to Him and listening to what He has to say. Most visions are symbolic, some lead you down a new path in life. Others answer questions you have in your mind and heart and some give you a new name. Mine showed me a path.

I lost all track of time while I was there and in what seemed like no time at all grandma Robbins was standing before me. I tried to stand up but found I couldn’t. I had been up there for four days and nights and was now too tired to move. She helped me into my dress and moccasins, then we went down the hill together. When we got back to the ranch I ate a little, showered and went to bed. Later when I was awake I talked with one of the elders of the tribe about my vision, that’s when I decided to go into archeology.

For all things Maura MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 post 11

“I notice the house still has its characteristic scent.”

Wren smiles and gives a little giggle.

“Scent? Oh yea the fudge. I guess when there has been a batch of brown sugar, fudge, made twice a week for three generations the smell never leaves.”

“Twice a week?”

“Yep, two times a week as long as I can remember Grandma would make fudge. She told me it was Grandpa’s Mom and Grandma that got her hooked on it and now I am not only hooked but am the sole keeper of the family recipe.”

“But you don’t make it twice a week.”

“No, one usually, but if I get really stressed out maybe two or three.”

They walk through the mainly deserted house, a few pieces of furniture here and there, a couple of family pictures still hanging on the walls. The carpets had been pulled up exposing the old dark hardwood flooring that had been hiding beneath them.

“Your decorating seems to be along the lines of early deserted.”

“You should talk, what do you have a recliner, a bed and a dresser? My original intention was to move my furniture over from my apartment this fall.”

Wren looks around the nearly empty living room, tears running down her face, sobbing, holding her arms tight around her torso.

“Why, why did this have to happen to me? Why does my world keep falling apart? Why did I have to survive?”

“Because for some reason maybe, you were meant to. I can’t explain why, anymore than I can answer the rest. But I can say this, if you hadn’t survived I would be short my best friend. A friend that I have grown to love. A friend in whom I have come to cherish every moment I spend with. If you had not survived I think a piece of me would have gone with you.”

“Norman I, I’m sorry. I just feel so overwhelmed, I am glad to have survived. And I do love you. Maybe I’m just too tired and things will be better tomorrow.”

“It is getting late and it has been a long day.”

“Come on, I’ll finish showing you around the house.”

Wren wipes tears from her eyes and face as she leads Norman down the hall.

“This is my laundry room with its vintage washer, dryer and chest freezer. This is the front bedroom as you can see it's in my artistic faze. This room back here is or will be my home office. This one originally was the baby room but as you can see Grandpa converted it into a very spacious bathroom. These are the basement stairs and this other door is the attic stairs. And finally this is the master bedroom.”

“Not quite the size of modern rooms are they?”

“No but it does cut down on the heating and cooling bills and it makes it much more cozy.”

“I notice this is the one room that’s completely furnished. I guess you're done with this one?”

“I figured if I was going to spend time here working on the place I might as well have a place to sleep. The furniture is all original nineteen twenties art-deco restored and refinished back to its original appearance.”

“So is it all original to the house?”

“Yes, except the mattress is new. They were some of the few pieces that were worth having restored and that caught my eye.”

“If this is what you grew up with, it does explain your taste in furniture.”

“Don’t you like my taste in furniture?”

“Actually? I very much adore your taste in furniture art-deco bordering on Bauhaus. It gives a room a clean and uncluttered look. Yes, I do like it.”

“We need to be going to bed. You can get ready in the bathroom; I’ll get ready in here.”

Norman leaves her to get ready and she closes the door behind him. She goes to the dresser and pulls out a pair of dark blue satin pajamas. After she has changed she slips on a pink flannel housecoat and a pair of matching slippers. She opens the door and finds Norman standing there in dark green cotton pajamas. He steps back into the room and sets his neatly folded clothes down on top of the dresser. Wren leaves to finish in the bathroom and returns to find the black satin comforter pulled back exposing the white satin sheets beneath. Norman is already lying on one side of the king-sized bed looking as though he is about ready to fall asleep. Wren walks over and turns on the bedside lamp then back to the door and turns off the overhead light. She takes off her housecoat and climbs into bed.

“Good night Norm.”

“Good night Wren.”

Sometime in the middle of the night Wren starts tossing, turning and thrashing about in her sleep shouting and screaming.

“No!, not again! Leave me alone! No more, please no more! I can’t take anymore, just leave me alone! Why can’t you just let me die!”

“Wren are you O.K.? Wren, Wren!”

“Norman? What are you doing here?”

“I’m spending the night, remember?”

“Where am I?”

“Your house, remember we came here after we found your apartment was emptied.”

“Yea, it’s coming back to me.”

“What’s wrong? Why were you screaming?”

“I was dreaming about last night.”

Norman slides closer to Wren sliding his right arm under her neck and wrapping his left around her waist. He holds her close to him, her head nuzzled up under his chin. Her back pressed up to him. He holds her until again they both fall fast asleep.

Victim 18 post 10

CHAPTER 3
REALITY CHECK


“Wren. Wren, you need to wake-up.”

Wren stretches, yawns then looks around outside the truck then over at Norman.

“Have I been asleep all this time? Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“I thought you needed the sleep after the night you had and it didn’t feel right to wake you.”

“But it wasn’t fair to you to have to drive all the way back with no one to keep you company.”

“Don’t worry about it. If I had needed company I could have woken you up at any time. Are you hungry?”

“I feel absolutely famished. Tell you what, we’re close to my place, why don’t we go there and I’ll fix you some dinner.”

“I really don’t want to impose on you. We could just go get something somewhere.”

“No you’ve done enough for me today, the least I can do is make you dinner. And maybe it’ll help get my mind off everything if I just jump back into life like it didn’t happen.”

“Alright, I won't argue. Besides one of your home cooked meals sounds pretty good right about now.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to make yet.”

“Doesn’t matter if your cooking is always delicious.”

When they get to Wren’s apartment they find the door to the apartment is partially open. Upon pushing it open the rest of the way they discover everything is gone. All the furniture from every room, the pictures from the walls, her clothes, the food from the refrigerator, even her cosmetics and toilet paper. Everything is gone. At one time she feels two separate emotions, one like she has moved out and was just looking around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything and the other is the sense of being violated all over again after finding the only thing that was left behind is a message in lipstick on the mirror.

“You should be dead. But don’t worry you soon will be.”

They call the police and wait in Norman's truck for the patrolman to arrive.

“Why, why is this happening to me? Everything I’ve worked so hard for all gone. First they take my dignity, then my virginity, and now this. Why, what did I do to them?”

“We may never know the answers to those questions. You have insurance and things can be replaced. As to your dignity the only ones who really know what happened and the only people who need to know are us. And have you really lost everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“You still have your life and I’m still here aren’t I?”
“I guess you're right again.”

A police cruiser pulls up alongside them. The tall dark skinned patrolman picks up a few things from the seat beside him and steps out of the car. Wren and Norman get out and approach him as he nears Norman’s truck.

“Excuse me officer, are you here for the burglary?”

“Yes, would you happen to be Miss Robbins?”

“Yes sir I am.”

“Would you mind showing me your apartment?”

“When we got here the door was ajar and we pushed it open and found, well, nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“When you step inside you’ll see what I mean.”

They all step inside and the strangeness of the scene still shocks Wren to see it. The feeling of violation is the main feeling this time causing her anger and frustration as she looks around the empty rooms explaining to the patrolman what all had transpired over the last twenty-four hours.

“We were told at our pre-patrol briefing that someone had managed to escape from the rape gang but I never would have dreamed I would meet you. I’m not sure what to say but congratulations on escaping.”

“Thank-you. But what about my apartment?”

“Unfortunately this is pretty standard procedure for this group. Every victim’s house has been done the exact same way. Typically there is no trace left behind every item in the house is taken and all of the surfaces washed down so there are no fingerprints to find. Maybe with your escape they’ll have been in too much of a hurry and missed something. If we have any further questions will there be a number we can reach you at?”

Norman pulls out another card and hands it to the officer.

“I think this would be the best number to try and then I can find her if need be.”

“I’d like to wish you two a nice evening and I’ll get in touch with you if I have any questions. I’ll give you my card with the report number on it so you can give it to your insurance company for your claim.

Wren and Norman return to his truck and pull out of the apartment’s parking lot. Norman takes them back out onto the highway occasionally taking a side street or two until he is quite certain there is no one following them.

“How does Mexican sound for dinner?”

“That’s fine Norman.”

“I won’t lie and say I know what you must be going through. But I can say I’ve seen a lot of men lose everything in a divorce. I guess it’s kind of the same. But I still don’t know what to say.”

“Nor do I. All I can say in response to your analogy is that at least you can take the ex-wife to court and try to get his stuff back. I on the other hand in the last day have been drugged, hauled two hours away in my own car trunk, drugged some more, forced to strip naked, humiliated, raped, and left to die in the cold. Who do I sue to get all of that back?”

“No one. All you can do is pick up what’s left and go on with your life.”

They do not speak any more for some time. Norman pulls off of South Lindbergh and into the lot of Casa Gallardo. As usual on a Saturday night the line is long with teenagers and young lovers out for the evening. They put their name on the list and wait in a corner for a table. They sit in silence holding hands Wren leaning her head against his shoulder. He can feel her warm tears soaking through his shirt as she finally starts crying. He pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to her for her tears. Still she keeps crying, his heart breaking more with each passing minute. He feels lost and beside himself not being able to completely understand what she is going through. He wants to help her to just take it all away but he doesn't know how. Wren quickly recomposes herself when their name is called though. Only her reddened eyes and slightly runny nose really give away that she has been crying.

“Can I get you anything to drink while you look at the menu?”

“I’ll have a Piná colada.”

“And for you sir?”

“Just a Coke.”

The waitress leaves and they look over the menu silently for some time before she returns with their drinks.

“Have you both decided?”
“I’ll have the beef and pork chimichanga.”

“And you sir?”

“I’ll have the enchilada platter.”

“So what will you need to spend the night?”

“Excuse me Norman, I wasn't paying attention.”

“I asked what you need to spend the night at my place.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Then where do you plan to stay tonight?”

“My house.”

“But there’s nothing there and if they cleaned it out don’t you think they’ll come back for you?”

“No, not my apartment. My house, well Grandma’s old house actually. Although I really hadn’t planned on moving in so soon. But, I doubt they know about it and that makes it the safest place I can think of.”

“Then I’ll stop on the way and pick up a couple of things. Then we’ll spend the night there.”

“We’ll spend the night? I’ll be fine. You have done so much for me already, you don’t have to do anything else.”

“I’ll feel much better knowing you're safe.”

“I only have one bed left in the house and you know my feelings about sleeping together.”

“Just because you sleep in the same bed it does not mean you have to have sex. Besides until your test results come back it may not be safe for either of us to do anything like that. And as I have said I would feel much better if I knew you were safe.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea but if it will keep you from worrying I’ll give in to your request.”

“So we stop and pick up a few things and some pajamas and head for your house.”

“Oh yes I think some pink satin pajamas with black lace trim would suit you just fine.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of plain cotton or flannel.”

With a giggle to her voice “No I really think pink with black lace trim would suit you better, maybe kind of low cut to highlight your chest.”

Their dinner arrives and they seem to focus only on eating, only Wren breaks the silence with her small mischievous giggles from time to time. After dinner they head toward Arnold down interstate fifty-five. They stop and pick up the few things that Norman needs and start toward Fenton.

“The turn is right there at the pool isn’t it?”

“No two turns after it.”

They turn onto Forest lane and follow its twists and turns back to the end where it becomes the driveway to Wren’s house. Norman pulls up in front of the garage and Wren gets out of the truck.

She walks up to the door frame of the garage and opens a small door then punches in her key code. The big old garage door rolls up and opens with its usual squeaks and pops. Norman very slowly pulls the bright yellow Chevy into the garage and Wren hits the button to close the door.

He steps out of his truck and looks around. The last time he had seen the inside of this garage it barely had room for the old Grand Marquis that was in it. Now, it is almost empty. A workbench runs across its back with the gleaming chrome of tools hanging from a pegboard over it. Where a second car would now fit sits Wren’s Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R racing bike, its titanium and gray finish gleaming in the light from the garage door opener completely clean and polished as fit Wren’s nature.

“What do you think?”

“A lot cleaner than the last time, and I see you added a workbench.”

“Nah, Great Granddad added that years before my Grandpa was even thought of. Just the collection of stuff and other personal treasures piled up over the years concealed it. Would you believe I actually found a surfboard hanging on the wall behind that massive pile on the other side.”

“Why would anyone want a surfboard in St. Louis?”

“That’s pretty much what I thought when I found it. I knew there was a workbench in the back but I was surprised to find all the tools. And it’s nice to have somewhere to keep my bike inside out of the weather.”



Wren opens the door into the main house and they step in. The house is not in the disarray it had been over the last few years of Grandma O’Malley’s life, it is clean and uncluttered with a fresh coat of paint on the walls and wood work. But with the scent of fresh fudge still hanging in the air though as they pass through the kitchen.

Victim 18 post 9

“Good morning Wren. I wondered if you would be waking up soon.”
“Oh Norman!, you startled me. How long have you been standing there?”
“Right here? Not long, but I’ve been in the room for about an hour.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
Norman comes around and sits in the chair next to the bed, reaches over and picks up her hand.
“It wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly of me now would it? Besides, you looked so peaceful.”
“If only it had been.”
“So where were you last night and why was I sitting alone in a bar waiting for you?”
“You know that rape gang that’s been in the news?”
“Yes.”
“You’re talking to victim eighteen.”
“Who? What? I don’t understand, how could this happen? Have you talked to the local police?”
“Ah, now the lawyer is awake and asking questions. Well if you feel it necessary to know, pull out your notebook and I’ll start from the beginning. Unless of course you plan to charge me by the hour.”
“Now when have I ever charged you for legal work?”
Wren laughs and then starts explaining from her leaving work all the way up and through the dream she just woke up out of. Norman lets her talk without interruption and with his complete attention strictly on her.
“Wow! I mean wow. I really don’t know what to say. I feel so sorry for you and yet I feel so angry at these people I have never seen. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through right now.”
There is a knock at the door and a short surly looking woman in a nurses uniform enters the room.
“How did you get in here? There’s not supposed to be anyone in here with her.”
“It’s okay, this is my lawyer Norman James.”
Norman reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a small silver case that Wren instantly recognized as the one she bought on the Navajo reservation and gave him for Christmas several years ago, flipping it open he hands the nurse one of his business cards. She looks at the card then at Wren.
“You’re alright with him here then?”
“Yes I’m quite alright. I called him this morning after sheriff Stoneson left. He brought me some clothes and a ride home.”
“Well I’m sorry sir but you're going to have to wait for her. I’m here to take her for her tests.”
“That’s fine, maybe I’ll slip down to the cafeteria and get some lunch while you're out.”
“Norman, I really do appreciate your coming down like this and I hate to make you wait around.”
“I would rather wait around and know you’re safe than to spend any more time worrying.”
They all start out the door Wren being pushed in a wheelchair Norman holding the door.
“Good-bye Wren I’ll see you in a little while.”
“I’ll see you then.”
It’s about three in the afternoon when Wren is pushed back into the room. Norman is sitting in the chair next to the bed his head laying back against the wall a copy of Agatha Christy’s The Murder of Rodger Ackroyd laying in his lap. Wren finds the bag from the store with her new clothes sitting on the floor next to him and takes them to the bathroom. She takes a very long hot shower using generous amounts of antibacterial soap and then dresses in the clothes Norman has brought for her. She comes out and sits on the bed to tie her new sneakers, when she’s done she sits and watches Norman. After a while she leans over and kisses him upon his lips.
“I thought prince charming was supposed to wake sleeping beauty.”
“Well it is the twenty-first century.”
“I guess from the looks of things you are cleared to go then?”
“Yep, I’m free to get out of here. I just have to see my normal doctor as soon as possible to keep up with the shots they say I’ll need after this. But otherwise I’m free to go.”
Wren picks up her purse and her paperwork and they head out the door. They go down the hall hand in hand and out into the parking lot. Wren notices her car is gone as they head out to find Norman’s truck.
“I’m glad you replaced the old Nissan with something a bit easier to find.”
He opens the door for her then goes around to the drivers side of the SST and gets in.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?”
“Not a thing since that beef stew last night.”
“What would you like?”
“Anything, and everything.”
“If my memory serves me correctly there should be an Applebee’s down here.”
“That would be great.”
It doesn’t take long for them to get to Applebee’s, they park in the back in the first space they find and head in. They wait in relative silence until they get a table.
“Now remember don’t order too much or you’ll get sick on the way home.”
“You’re sounding a little like my Dad instead of my boyfriend. Don’t worry so much, I'll be fine.”
They order an appetizer and a couple of sodas.
“So how are you doing?”
“I’m not sure really, I mean, I feel nervous and scared like my whole world is coming apart.”
“So you're not fine then. But, why are you nervous and scared?”
“I really don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t.”
They sit in silence nibbling at the appetizer for sometime before Wren speaks again.
“I guess for starters I’m afraid that after this I may never see you again.”
“And just why are you thinking that?”
“Because I’m damaged goods.”
“So this is why you didn’t tell me what was up when you called this morning. Now what makes you damaged goods?”
“The rape what else, I’ve read enough to know how men feel about the subject.”
“Apparently you haven’t read enough though. Did you go out and ask to be raped? Did you take out an ad in the paper? Or did you pre-arrange the whole thing to add excitement and adventure to your life?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I am overjoyed to know you're alive and safe. When you didn’t show up last night I got worried. When you didn’t answer your phone I got scared. I spent a good portion of last night awake pacing the floor worried until I finally sat down early this morning and fell asleep in a chair in my living room. That’s where I was when you called this morning. Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to abandon you just because you were raped.”
“Oh Norman! I’ve been so scared you’d leave me after we got back or if I told you on the phone you’d have never come out here to get me.”
“Quite on the contrary I would probably have gotten here all the faster. Now let's finish this up so we can head for home.”
They finish and leave heading back toward St. Louis on Interstate forty-four.
“So what are your plans after this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean for work? If whoever it was knew to grab you from work, they could do it again and I don’t think you would survive next time.”
“I suppose you’re right. I guess I’ll go in, briefly explain the situation to my boss and see if I can get some time off. Then I’ll start searching for a new job.”
“I wouldn’t even go back in if I were you. I’d just call in and start looking for a new one.”
“I couldn’t do that. It just wouldn’t be proper. No, I feel I should go in and face the problem head on.”
“I really don’t think that’s such a good idea Wren. I think you should avoid going anywhere near there.”
“What about you? What are your plans for the future?”
“Well now that you ask, I’ve been looking at some property out in Franklin county and thinking about building a nice house. Settle down and raise a family, you know the American dream. A large two story house, two cars, two point three children, bar-b-queuing on the deck on Saturday and a golden retriever in the back.”
“Got this thing pretty well planned out don’t you? I’m just wondering though how you plan on that three tenths of a child. The last I checked they only came in whole units not partials and you need a wife to have kids or do you plan to adopt?”
“I was just quoting the statistics of the dream, you don’t have to take them so literally. And I am perfectly aware of needing a wife to have kids.”
“So have you found a successful candidate?”
“Maybe, but I might not have the nerve to ask her yet. So what are your long term plans?”
“Well for starters they have been forced into a slight detour here of late. Maybe I’ll look for a job on an archeological dig somewhere, possibly out of the country or at least much farther from St. Louis. I mean after all that is what my major was in. I only took the accounting job because it paid the bills and fit with my minor. Then I’d like to settle down, maybe seek a professorship and raise a family.”
They drive on for sometime with Norman trying to find the way to get the right words out and failing over and over. By the time he finds them Wren is asleep in the passenger's seat and never hears them. So he just drives on with the radio softly playing classical music as they head back to St. Louis knowing he can tell her the words in his heart later.

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Victim 18 post 8

Wren is now getting very sleepy from being awake so far into the morning.  It is several hours until the next tests and she knows there will be no breakfast or lunch for her until after the tests so she settles into the covers as best she can and lets herself drift off into restless sleep.

“Wren, why are you fidgeting so much?”

“Grandma, please don’t worry about it.  Okay?”

“Worry about it?  What do you mean by that?  I need to know what’s wrong.”

Wren just sits there looking out of the car’s window, glad that the ride to her Grandma’s house is short so she can get out of the car and stand up again.

“Wren I can’t help you if you don’t answer me.  What is wrong?”

After a long pause Wren finally speaks though her voice is subdued and choked with tears.

“Grandma, Mom gave me the worst punishment I’ve ever received and I can’t sit down without experiencing excruciating pain.  What makes it worse is I didn’t do what she says I did.”

“What were you punished for?”

“Having sex.”

“Why did she think you had sex?”

“I went out with Lee and he asked again.  I told him flat out no.  The next day at school he was spouting off how, when, and where we did it.

I guess the school nurse called her because I got called down to her office to get the “so you’ve become sexually active packet”, and Mom was waiting for me when I got home.”

“What did she do?  No, wait to answer that until we’re inside since we’re here and you obviously need to stand up.”

They go inside through the garage door straight through the kitchen and into the living room.  Her grandma sits down in her favorite chair and Wren paces the floor explaining exactly how she had been punished.

“When she finally came and unhooked me and removed the blindfold I could finally see that it was a mixture of blood and sweat that was running down my legs.  Mom hustled me into the bathroom and into the tub.  She turned on the cold water and oh it felt so good to feel the cold water running over my butt.  Then she left the room.  When she came back she turned off the water and immediately poured alcohol over my butt.  She was lucky she hadn’t taken the gag out of my mouth because I let out the loudest scream I’ve ever made.  Even with the gag in it hurt my throat to scream that loud.  When I settled down some she tossed me a black towel which told me I was to be grounded.  I dried off everything except my butt and went in and lay face down on the bench.  Then you called this morning to remind her you were picking me up and here I am.”

“Wren, I need to see what she did to you.”

Wren showed her the raw, red flesh of her butt, with its myriad of criss-crossing welts running every which way across it.  The sight of which was too much and made her Grandma choke and gag on her sudden tears.

“Oh Honey we have got to get you to a doctor that’s going to get infected and then it’s going to be nothing but a whole heap of trouble.”

“Grandma, NO!  That will just get me in more trouble.  It will heal and I’ll be just fine.”

Grandma’s face became stern and cogent her thick Irish accent coming fully to the forefront of her speech.

“No Wren this has to stop.  Eighty lashes all but the first sixteen of which were with a riding crop.  I can’t believe my own daughter would do this.  Why?  Where did she learn to behave like that from?  Well those are questions to be answered later.  For now we have to get you to the doctor.”

Wren’s grandma makes a phone call and finds Wren’s doctor will see her.  Then she makes another call to someone else and explains the whole thing to them.

“Come on Wren your doctor will see you today if we beat his closing time.”

They head out and get back in the car.  As they drive along with Wren face down on the back seat her curiosity finally gets the better of her.

“Grandma, who was the other call?”

“My lawyer, he is going to meet us at your doctor’s office.  I’m going to take custody of you.  You will not be going back home again.”

Wren lay in complete shock and awe at the statement her Grandma just made.  Her mind is a complete jumble of thoughts as it races through all the possibilities of what it means.  The only thing that clouds any part of her thinking is the pain of the reason she wouldn’t be going home.

When they arrive at the Doctor’s office Wren not being able to sit starts to apprehensively pace the floor.  She comes and stands by her Grandma when the lawyer Mr. Hardwick shows up.  He asks a few questions, Wren’s age, birth date, and so on.  The Doctor’s office has slowly cleared out when they are finally called back.

“Dr. Emir will see you now.”

The three of them go back to the exam room where the doctor is already waiting.

“Doctor, this is my lawyer Mr. Hardwick.”

“Yes, I know Mr. Hardwick very well.  How is Steven's arm doing?”

“Oh he just complains about the itching under the cast is all.”

“Well that can’t be helped now can it?  Just tell him not to try riding his skateboard down stairs again and he wont be going through it again.  So what brings the three of you here?”

“My client has undergone a rather severe beating at the hands of her own mother and her Grandmother Mrs. O’Malley has hired me to investigate the case and to change Wren’s custody status to Mrs. O’Malley.  Now unless you feel I need to be witness in this part of the proceeding I shall be waiting on the other side of the door for your word.”

“That’s fine Mr. Hardwick if I deem it necessary I’ll Let you know.”

With that Mr. Hardwick leaves the exam room.

“Now Wren, let's see why you are here.”

Wren lowers her jeans and shows him her buttocks.  Which causes him to wince as her underwear is stained with blood and has stuck to the open wounds.

“Excuse me Wren but this will have to be photographed as trial evidence.”

He gets into the cabinet and removes a small camera.  He takes several shots at slightly different angles to ensure enough will come out fit for trial.

“Wren I’m going to step out and have a word with Mr. Hardwick so why don’t you disrobe because this will require a full examination to be admissible.”

Dr. Emir leaves the room and Wren undresses a nurse, comes in with an exam gown for her and leaves again.  After a few minutes there is a knock at the door.

“You may come in Doctor.”

Doctor Emir reenters the room.

“Would it be alright for Mr. Hardwick to come in not for the exam but so you don’t have to answer the same questions over and over again?”

Wren answers “That would be fine.”

Mr. Hardwick comes back carrying a tape recorder.

“Now Wren, why did your Mom do this?”

Wren tells them everything from the time of her date with Lee right down to showing her Grandma the sores and welts from the beating.  She gives them every detail, every feeling she had and all in one uninterrupted narrative.

“So this is your Mom’s normal way of punishing you?”

“Yes Mr. Hardwick, as far back as I can remember it has only gotten worse though as I have gotten older.  Except she has never gone this far before.  Usually I only get four swats with the paddle and twelve with the crop.”

“Hasn’t this method ever seemed a little odd to you compared to how your friends are punished?”

“Doctor, I've never once thought about it.  I mean I’ve never talked to anyone about the way I’m disciplined so why would anyone else?”

“Mrs. O’Malley, Wren, I’ll be waiting outside so the Doctor can go about with his work.”

“Okay Mr. Hardwick.”

“Well I can see that the place to start will be a gynecological exam to prove you didn’t have sex.  Then we will check for other signs of abuse.”

After the exam Dr. Emir leaves the room so Wren can redress.  When she is done her Grandma reopens the door and the Doctor and Mr. Hardwick come back into the room.

“Well we defiantly have a case as according to Dr. Emir you most defiantly have not had sex and he is willing to testify to that at trial.”

“Yes I have no problem testifying at your emancipation hearing.  Now I am going to write you a prescription for a salve to put on the affected areas three times a day and a special soap to use as well twice a day.  I would advise you to wear loose skirts and no underwear until it heals.  If the condition worsens any at all or the sores don’t stop bleeding by Monday call me first thing.  And don’t sit on it if at all possible though standing and walking are advisable so everything gets to heal properly.”

“What about school?”

“Until that heals you can’t go back.  I’ll write up a note for the school to keep you out for the next two weeks.”

“There is only a week left of the year.”

“How much time have you missed so far?”

“None.”

“There shouldn’t be any problems then.”

“Mr. Hardwick, how am I supposed to get my things from Mom and what about my stuff at school and my school records like my report card?”

“I’ll take care of that and try to arrange for a hearing as fast as possible.”

“That reminds me, Doctor Emir said an “emancipation hearing.”  What is that?”

“Basically at your age it is easier to get you declared an adult than to try to change custody to your Grandma.  Doctor Emir was nice enough to point that out to me.”

“So I would choose where I live, not the court.”

“Right.”

Wren rolls over from one side to her back and through slightly open eyes in the dim light of the room she sees someone standing at the foot of her bed.  Causing her to sit up fast her eyes opening wide as she stares at the person.  He is tall, thin, with dark hair and wearing a dark blue suit.  He is standing there staring down at her, then in a deep, soft, husky voice he starts to speak.

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