“Lily! Lily!” Bailey sobbed through the black bag covering her head and neck. “Lily! Are you there? Make a noise if you’re there! Please, Lily!”
Silence.
She tried again, “Oh, Jesus Christ—Lily! Please! Mommy’s here. Don’t be scared, honey. Mommy’s right here.”
Silence.
Bailey’s wails grew louder as she felt the bumps and turns of the car more intensely. Wherever she was going, it was rough to get there. Her head pounded with each jostling—a symptom of being hit over the head with some hard object before being dragged into the back of a large vehicle.
She tried to search her memory for something, some idea of what had happened. The last thing she remembered was watching her daughter run to her and then scream. Was there a gunshot? She wasn’t sure. Dan, her security detail, was there. At least, she thought he was there. But he was a hazy part of her pieced up memory as well. Did he fire the gun?
She tried a new approach, “Is he dead! Did you kill him! Did you kill Dan?” Bailey screamed, her throat going horse from the effort. “Say something! What did you do to my daughter? Why can’t I hear her?”
Bailey began rocking back and forth in her seat, attempting to feel her hands, but they had been pulled too far back and locked together with silver cuffs. Her body swam against the seat belt, searching for the latch to break free. But she was tied too tightly and her body couldn’t maneuver. She then tried kicking, only finding her ankles had gone numb from also being bound together at the ankle and thighs. Her entire body had become a captive.
She screamed once again. This time louder. If the only thing she could do was scream, if that was the only thing she could control in this situation, she would do it. “LILY!”
“I can’t take this anymore!” A husky, familiar voice sounded from the front of her. “She’s not here. You can scream all you want, but no one is going to answer you. Or save you.” The man laughed as she heard him roll down a window. She could hear the sound of crickets in the air. How long they had been driving, she couldn’t be sure. But she did know they were no longer in Chicago.
“What did you do to her? Did—did you kill her?!” Bailey became desperate as she arched her back again. A roll of tears streamed down her face, causing the cloth bag to cling to her cheeks and lips. “Did you kill my baby, you son of a bitch?”
She heard a hit, maybe a fist on the steering wheel or a hand slapping a seat. “She’s not your baby! And I’m not gonna warn you again. If you don’t shut the fuck up, I will pull this fucking car over and knock your cunt ass out again.”
A lightbulb went off in Bailey’s mind. She lowered her voice, trying to hold back any type of emotion, “Joe? Is that you?”
“Who the fuck do you think it is? Yeah, it’s me. How you couldn’t figure that out when I was leaving you all those messages…” He snickered to himself, pleased at his attempts. “I knew you’d be too stupid to do anything about them. You were always too weak to stand up for yourself.”
She was genuinely curious, “How did you know where I would be? We had security and guards everywhere after everything happened.”
“Anyone and everyone can track down a celebrity, Bailey. Your boyfriend’s court case, the press around that mansion of his, how they came and went with you guys...I could very easily follow you and never be noticed. And after I bribed a guard to let me inside the complex, I could trace every move you made from the inside.
It all made sense to Bailey. No one would have noticed him among the press that congregated every morning in front of their gate. He could have just been some fan or a photographer on call. Unless they recognized him, he was free to just be there, right before their noses without anyone questioning it. And with enough money from his unlimited family bank account he was able to break through the barrier security had made.
She continued asking him questions, hoping he would spill some detail that she could hold on to, “What happened to Mexico? Your parents told me you were long gone. They were getting postcards from Tijuana.”
He grunted loudly, obviously disgusted by her, “I’m not answering any of your fucking questions. Shut up and enjoy the drive.” He added under his breath, “You’re not gonna get many more of them after I’m through with you.”
Bailey sat back in her seat. With the mask over her face blinding her from seeing anything, the rest of her senses heightened. The upholstery was leather, like that of his favorite SUV. It smelled vaguely of her grandfather’s fishing tackle. And behind her, something heavy and bulky bounced and then crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Even his driving told her that she had to be out in a rural area. The sound of the crackling gravel under the tire wasn’t one she heard often living in the city. But there were also hills, lots and lots of hills. She could only think of one town in Illinois where gravel hills sent a body lurching forward and back.
They were in Rocking Hill, heading towards his fishing cabin. It was remote, well hidden. When Bailey and Leo attempted to track him down a few months ago, it was the first town they headed to. But no one except an observant bartender could tell them anything about his location. She tried to remember the intersection that he had given them, but her mind was being pulled by the thought of her daughter.
“Joe, please, tell me you didn’t kill her. Please, I need to know. I’ll shut up. I’ll do what you ask. Just tell me if our little girl is dead,” She emphasized ‘our,’ carefully trying not to use the word ‘my’ after he scolded her the last time. This is what it came down to—playing nice long enough to get the information and escape.
“Bailey, who do you think I am? Do you really think I would kill my own daughter? My own flesh and blood? I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Even when I took her from that damn foster home, I was good to her. I fed her, gave her stuff to calm her down. I was gonna give her a good life in Texas…Until you ruined it.” He turned up the music of the radio. Some country song about love lost filled the car. A man with a southern twang sang his heart out to an acoustic guitar. Joe shouted over the tune, “I didn’t kill her, Bailey. I killed him.”
Bailey began again to silently cry as she thought of Leo’s body covered in bullet holes.
***
“Mr. Connelly, we have a lot of questions to ask you.” The frustrated police officer massaged his wrinkled temple as he fought for Leo’s attention, “I need you to focus.”
“I need to see her! I need to see her now!” Leo banged his fist on the cold, steel table. His gold ring, the one he received from winning his last title match, caused a ringing sound to echo the colorless room. A detective and two police officers shifted in their chairs at his request.
“I can’t do that, Mr. Connelly. She’s not a blood relative of yours, and as far as we can see, she has none in this state. She’s in good hands with Child Protective Services.” The detective removed his glasses in anticipation. This was not an answer that would make anyone happy, let alone a former boxing champion with a well-documented anger problem.
“Lily lived at my home with me. I'm her family—her only family. Her mother,” his voice cracked as he pressed on, “Her mother would've wanted her to come home with me.”
“If you answer our questions, if you cooperate and we agree to let you go, I’ll put in a good word for you with the agency. But for now, I need to get through this list. Are we clear?”
Leo nodded his head as the man looked down at his clipboard and began to read from the top. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Reed?”
He hung his head as he answered. A vision of her walking up the stairs from the gym to the garage replayed over and over again in his memory. He softly said, “This morning when she left my home with her daughter. She was heading towards her old family home to meet with her great aunt. And then she had planned to go to the police station to report some text messages she had received.”
“Is this her phone?” A police officer dressed in street clothing placed a beat up phone wrapped in a plastic zip up bag in front of him. It was the same model as Bailey’s, the same color, as well. But he couldn’t be sure.
He held it in his hands, “I know her passcode. Can I try to unlock it?” The men looked at one another and then shrugged in agreement. He typed in Bailey’s birthday and watched as the screen lit up under his fingers. “It’s hers. Where did you find this?”
“About two blocks away from where she was taken in an a gutter. Based on the damage, we think whoever took her ditched the phone while driving away. It was a lucky find.” The man checked off some numbers off of his list, apparently getting enough from Leo. He cleared his throat and asked another, “What do you know about her ex, Joe Malnuty?”
Leo grew angry just at the name. He knew he was behind this. No one else in their lives could be so sadistic as to shoot a security guard, kidnap his own daughter, or attempt to kill his ex-wife. “I know he’s a psychotic asshole who took his own daughter from a group home. I know he would go to any lengths to harm Bailey.”
“How about his location? We’ve got cops out in Arizona right now staking out the ranch they found Lily at, but do you remember any other details about where he lived?”
The night of Leo and Bailey driving to rural Illinois came back like a flash. The starstruck bartender, the beat up girlfriend, the bleach blond waitress with the silly accent… “Rocking Hill. He’s got a cabin out there by the lake.”
The older detective sighed tiredly, “We already checked that place out. It’s empty. No one’s been there in at least a month. Is there any other place you can think of?”
“Some place in Parkhurst, Idaho…I think, but I don’t know for sure. My agent hired a private detective to get intel on him when he took Lily. He has more details than I do. But I know he’s gonna bring her to Rocking Hill. I’m sure of it. That’s where he brought his last girlfriend before he beat her to an inch of her life. He’s going there.”
“Mr. Connelly, we’ll check every area until we find her. But right now, our leads are telling us Arizona. We’ll look into this place in Idaho too just to be sure. Can you leave us information for your agent or the detective he used?”
Leo hesitated, “I can, but I need you to get me Lily. I’m not leaving here until you do that. She needs to come home with me.”
“You know that I can’t do that, Mr. Connelly.”
Leo placed his hands together, pleading with the man to understand, “Do you have a daughter, Detective Montrose? Maybe a sister or a niece? This little girl has been through so much. Her mom had to put her in a group home after they lost their place, her own father kidnapped her and drugged her, and she now witnessed a murder and her mom being taken away. I need you to understand me here. She needs to be with someone who cares about her. I’ve got a nanny for her. I’ve got a room and food for her. She’ll be well guarded with me.”
The man walked off into the other room while the two officers sat by staring at the clock. A half hour passed before he returned. “She’s waiting for you outside. You take care of her, you hear me?”
Leo stood and ran out the door. Lily waited on a bench clutching a black and white teddy bear an officer had given her. She dropped the stuffed animal as she saw Leo run towards her. Her arms outstretched as he caught her. He could feel her tears trickle down his neck and shirt as he carried her out of the station and into the car. As soon as she was buckled into her seat, Leo listened to her fall into a deep sleep, her head bobbing with the motion of the drive.
He took out his cellphone and dialed the one person he knew could help, “Jonathan?”
“Leo, what the fuck is going on? No one will tell me anything and they’re not letting me into the house. The press is going crazy, man!” He shouted over the sounds of other’s voices, everyone discussing details of Bailey’s kidnapping.
“I’m on my way home with Lily. But I want to make a statement. I want it to air on the news. Can you do that for me?”
“It’s done. But are you sure it’s wise? Did the police say it’s a good move?” Jonathan had handled a ton of scandals in his time as a sports agent, but this one had far surpassed his expertise.
“I don’t care what they say, Jonathan. I need to get Bailey home. I need to do this for Lily.” He hung up the phone without another word. He was going to have his time in front of the press whether the police or the detectives wanted him to or not. Leo’s face and fame would ensure that he was heard and seen. He needed to reach as many people as possible, even if it meant facing the public for the first time since his last match.
The car pulled up to the gate as Leo barked at the driver to stop before he could punch the numbers into the keypad. As soon as the car hesitated, the photographers and crews attacked his car, making it nearly impossible for him to get out of the backseat without disturbing Lily’s sleep. Jonathan was there, guiding him to the front. His own security formed a circle around him as he began to read off a piece of paper he scribbled on during his car ride home:
“Thanks for being here. I really appreciate it. By now, you all know my girlfriend, Bailey, the mother of the girl I helped find just a month ago, was abducted this afternoon. In addition, my head security officer was shot and killed. I now need to ask that the public be on the lookout for Joe Malnuty, Bailey’s abusive ex-husband. He has managed to get away from police once before, and I know he's capable of doing it again. I believe he may be either in Illinois, Idaho, or Arizona. My agent will distribute pictures of him when I'm done that I would appreciate you sharing.
Before I go, I want to send a message to Bailey herself.” Leo took a deep breath in. This was not the time to let his emotions get the best of him, “Bailey, Lily is safe. She’s with me, and I’m gonna make sure she’s okay. What I need you to do is fight. Fight to survive. I know you can do this, but I need you to hang on.”
He paused at the end of his written word. But there was more he needed to say. As he looked into the camera, he swallowed and added, “I love you, Bailey Reed. I love you so much. I’m coming for you. I'll find you, I promise.”