Kyla’s Secret

The detectives were waiting for the first-shift staffers when the woman reported to work the following day. Those from the night shift were present as well, including the Italian night watch that Kyla had developed such a crush on. They’d never spoken before, but the woman had seen her around and knew who she was. They were exact opposites in appearance. The night watch was tall and had dark hair and eyes. She wasn’t fat so much as big-boned. She appeared to be around thirty years of age. Despite the fact that they didn’t look anything alike, the night watch didn’t seem to have anything that she didn’t have, the woman thought competitively, other than that she was a lot younger. As always, there was the initial fear that her after-hours hobby had been discovered and they were there to question everyone on campus about who could be hacking webcams connected to the university. But the questions had nothing to do with webcam hacking, as she quickly learned once she had given her name to the detectives—one a short, stocky man, the other a slender young woman. “You’ve worked here for how long?” asked the man. “Just over two years now,” she answered. “Have you ever had any encounters with a woman named Kyla Rembler?” Uh-oh. “No, but I’ve heard of her. She’s the reporter writing an article, isn’t she? That lives in Hawaii?” The detectives nodded. “Miss Rembler hasn’t been seen since early yesterday evening,” said the female detective, “and is believed to have been abducted.” So that’s why she never came back last night. The woman had waited and waited but eventually, she could no longer keep her eyes open and needed to get to sleep. “Uh-oh. I hope she turns up soon.” “Is there anything at all you can tell us that may shed light on her whereabouts?” The woman thought a moment, and in a split-second decision, she chose to be a bit more forthright. “No, but I have read a few of her articles online, and one day when I was reading about a piece she did on Hawaiian culture, I stumbled upon a link to her personal blog. I had time to kill at the moment, so I read the last entry posted at the time. It said something about waiting for Zoey, who I know to be the night watch for the dorm she was in.” The male detective scribbled notes. “She said something to the effect of it being much too early for her and that she was hungry. So she wanted to go out to get something to eat.” The detectives both nodded knowingly, and the man said, “Unfortunately there was a robbery at the convenience store that she appears to have gone to.” “Oh, no,” said the woman, genuinely concerned. She’d heard about a holdup on the news this morning but never thought to connect Kyla to it in any way. “Are you sure?” The man nodded. “Pretty sure. Unfortunately, we have no surveillance footage we can view because the camera system was down that night, but her car was found in the parking lot, and two people were shot as well—one of them the cashier.” “Oh, God,” the woman groaned again. “Did they make it? Do you have any clue as to where the reporter is?” They shook their heads dubiously. “The cashier is gone, I’m afraid. The woman that was shot is in critical condition last we heard and isn’t expected to survive. As for Miss Rembler, we believe she was in the store at the time it was held up and then taken hostage by the perpetrators.” “Oh, my gosh, that’s just terrible,” the woman said. “Yes, it’s very unfortunate. We’re gathering as much info as we can about the events leading up to the robbery and anything she might have done or said to anyone in case there’s a connection, but as of yet there doesn’t appear to be.” “What about the other girl? Some other girl went missing too, but I forgot her name. Meagan Something, I think. Could there be a connection there?” “Probably not,” said the man. “So you’ve never spoken to either one of them?” “I once spoke briefly to the other girl, as I told the police when they came to investigate her disappearance. I caught her smoking marijuana behind a tree and gave her a verbal warning. Never spoke to the reporter, though I have seen her around the campus once or twice.” “So you have no idea who may want to harm either of them?” asked the lady cop. “No, ma’am. Don’t know either one of them well enough to possibly say.” She hoped she appeared honest and that nothing in her tone or expression gave away the fact that she knew damn well what had happened to Meagan. They asked a few more questions and then moved on. The woman found herself saddened by the news. And scared for Kyla. The beautiful, sexy Kyla Rembler. You bastards, she thought to herself, let her go. Just let her go, whoever you are. She hated to think she may never see the girl again, if only through a webcam, and she hated even more to think of what nightmares she could be going through at the moment. A beautiful woman like that wasn’t usually taken for conversation. If she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a crime in progress, the perps could have simply shot her like they shot the others. They didn’t have to take her—not unless they had some pretty horrible things in mind for the girl before disposing of her. The woman was surprised at just how heartbroken she felt over what probably happened to Kyla. Nonetheless, she went through the motions of her job in a rather mechanical kind of way. She had no appetite at lunchtime and had to force herself to at least have a bowl of soup for dinner just to keep up her energy. With a faint glimmer of hope, she connected to Kyla’s webcam. The girl was usually at her computer at this time of day, but all she got, not surprisingly, was a dead feed. With a sigh of frustration, she delved deeper into Kyla’s blog. She hadn’t realized how far back it went, but the girl had apparently kept a journal for almost a decade. By the time she finished reading an hour later, she almost felt like she knew the lovely Hawaiian girl. It seemed she had led a relatively normal life with a normal family, if there really was such a thing as normal. She envied her growing up in such a beautiful climate and got a kick out of some of her sailing adventures. She pushed back from her desktop that night feeling helpless. She had never felt like she needed to prove herself to anyone or to be anyone’s hero, but she sure wished she could be Kyla Rembler’s hero that night. She knew, however, that the odds of the girl ever being found alive weren’t very good. She tried to think of ways she could help the investigation, but doubted there was anything she could come up with that hadn’t already been considered. Not quite ready for sleep just yet, she tried to engage herself in spying on others, but no one else captivated her interest since discovering Kyla. An email came in from her mother back in her native country. It was early morning there, and her mother was always an early riser. She missed her family, but not the weather. Sacramento wasn’t as warm as she would have preferred, but it sure beat where she was from. The woman replied to her mother, stripped, and climbed into bed. Her body was tired but her mind was churning a mile a minute, thinking about all the horrors Kyla may have had to face over the last thirty hours or so. When sleep finally did claim her, it was not without nightmares. In one dream she was walking through a long tunnel lined with bricks. The tunnel was damp and musty, but there was just enough light to see her way through it. The silhouette of a slender woman with long hair approached her. Once she was about ten feet away she could see that it was Kyla. “Kyla?” she asked curiously. Kyla came into better view just then. Her face was covered with bruises, and the areas that weren’t bruised looked deathly pale against her jet-black hair. She appeared lost and bewildered and wore a very defeated and hopeless expression on her face. When her eyes came into focus on her, she said, “Do I know you?” “No,” the older woman said nervously, “but I know you.” The Hawaiian native then appeared startled, as if she’d been hit with a sudden recognition or realization of some kind. “You!” she screamed. “You! You’re the one that’s been spying on me.” The woman was so caught off guard by the sudden outburst that she wasn’t sure how to respond to the accusation. Should she deny it? Acknowledge it? Instead, she begged Kyla to help her. “No! You stay away from me!” Kyla screamed. “But I just want to help,” the woman insisted. Shadowy figures then emerged from the tunnel behind Kyla and grabbed her. Kyla began to scream in terror. “Let her go!” the woman screamed. A minute later, the woman woke up in a sweat just as she’d been about to pursue Kyla and her abductors in hopes of freeing the girl from their grasp, who had then begun to scream for her help. Spotty whined with concern, and then the woman fell back asleep trying to convince herself that Kyla Rembler didn’t matter.