Them

Boris yawned as his flight touched ground. It was a cold, brisk New England day—colder than it usually got where he lived. Once his plane landed and he shuttled to his hotel, he grabbed a bite to eat. He had not warned Janelle’s sister, Bronwyn Novak, up front that he was coming to see her. He thought he had a better chance of getting her to cooperate if he showed up unannounced. Before he made the visit, he needed food in his stomach so he could think straight. He went down to the hotel lobby and into the restaurant off it, where he ordered a sub and a soda. With his belly full and satisfied, he set out on his mission. He had his doubts that he would be able to get the sister to cooperate, but he was going to try his absolute best. He’d gone over some ideas of what he would say in his mind. If he was right about her knowing where Stone was, then it was imperative that he find out so he could finally put an end to the madness that had been going on far too long. An idea had hatched in his mind to do this. He didn’t know much about the sister’s habits and therefore wasn’t sure if she was home. He hoped that she would be. It was mid-afternoon. If no one was home, he would return in the early evening. He parked the rental in front of the country home where the sister resided and took note of a single car parked in the driveway. He exited his vehicle and rang the doorbell, sucking in a hopeful breath. The door opened, and a woman peered out at him hesitantly. She wasn’t as big as Stone, but she was just as ugly. “Can I help you?” “Yes,” Boris began. “I believe you can. My name is Boris Brownly, and I’m Janelle Stone’s probation officer.” The woman’s eyebrows raised with surprise. “Probation officer? Don’t you mean past tense?” Ignoring the question, Boris pressed on. “Ma’am, if I may have a few minutes of your time, I would greatly appreciate it, because many lives depend on it and that may include your own.” The woman said nothing for a moment and continued to eye him suspiciously, unsure of what to do. Finally, she said, “Can I see some ID?” Boris pulled out his license and showed it to her. “Okay, so you were her PO, and as far as I know, you were pretty damn obsessed with her. The fact that you came all the way across the country confirms this. Are you sure this isn’t about you? She had you kidnapped and held hostage—that’s how horrible you treated her. Not that I condone her actions. What she did was wrong, no doubt about it. But sometimes reactive abuse happens when one is pushed too far, and knowing my sister, you had to have done something.” “I never claimed to be perfect,” Boris said, “but it’s imperative that you tell me her location and that we keep it a secret between you and me.” “I don’t understand.” Finally, with confusion and frustration, she said, “Why don’t you just come in? It’s too cold to keep the door open like this.” Graciously, Boris stepped into the warm, cozy living room. “Take a seat,” the sister ordered, not offering him anything to drink—not that he was interested. “I don’t understand what you want from me.” Boris got straight to the point. “Okay, I’ll just cut to the chase without dancing around the subject.” “Please do,” said the sister. “Your sister has been hiring people on the dark web to literally torment people, including police officers. I wasn’t her only victim. She needs to be brought back to the US before anyone else gets hurt or killed.” “Well, how can I do that? I’m not responsible for her, and I can’t make her go anywhere or do anything.” “That’s why I have an idea.” “I can’t wait to hear it,” the sister said with sarcasm, making Boris begin to wonder if the whole trip was a waste of time and money. “There’s a police officer right now holed up with her significant other and her son in a hotel room, forced to go into hiding. It’s the same officer who was abducted along with me. They’re absolutely terrified.” “Again,” she said, “I don’t condone my sister’s actions, but they had to have done something pretty damn significant for her to have done what she’s done.” “I totally get that,” Boris replied. “I’ll be the first one to admit, having been in law enforcement as long as I have, that the system is not perfect. I totally believe, without a doubt, that the system failed your sister.” In reality, that’s not at all what he thought. Maybe some people had pissed in her coffee at one point or another, but that was just life and no excuse to do the things she’d done. “I want to help your sister so she not only doesn’t feel the need to have people harmed, but so that she also doesn’t feel she has to hide and stay away from her friends and family anymore.” “Oh, right. You want to welcome her home with open arms, kiss and make up, right?” Boris was struggling to keep his cool. This bitch was too much like her crazy sister. “Really, I don’t see what I could do for you, sir. I’m sorry she’s harmed you or anyone else, but as far as I know, she’s not even in the US.” “I know—and that’s why I’m here. We also believe she has very important information to help us with the cult case, but she’s obviously too afraid to show herself. So she can help us, and we can help her in return.” “And how do you help her in return? By making a bunch of false promises? Absolutely not.” “I give you my word that is certainly not the case. All we need is her help with identifying some cult members, making some formal statements, and then she’ll be free to go wherever she wants.” “Why am I having such a hard time believing this?” the sister said skeptically. “Can I ask you a personal question?” “What is it?” “How would you say you’re doing financially these days?” “What kind of question is that?” “Just bear with me. Would you say you’re a little hard up for money—moderately, severely?” “Somewhere in between moderate and severe. Where is this going?” Boris reached into his jacket and pulled out a large wad of cash. “You’re going to contact your sister and beg her to come to the US because you were diagnosed with breast cancer, you don’t have much longer to go, and you want to see her before that time comes. We’ll make damn sure she doesn’t know you lured her here under false pretenses. No one but you and law enforcement has to know anything.” Boris could practically see the thoughts journeying through the woman’s head. “And how much is the price tag for the story?” “Fifty grand.” Boris placed the cash in his lap and pulled out a piece of paper tucked inside his jacket. He handed it to Bronwyn. “This is the email I want you to type to your sister, word for word. Once I see you do it and get confirmation that she’s on her way to your nearest airport, this cash is yours.” A sad but resigned expression overtook the sister’s features as she looked at the letter and then at the cash. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from her chair and said, “Come on over to my laptop.”