Chapter 6

It was Friday and Alan and Debbie had asked me at lunch if they could get a ride. Their parents were up in Fort Lauderdale at some event and wouldn’t be back until late that night and it had been raining all day. The bus ride that morning hadn’t been too bad, but they were dreading the one int the afternoon.

When I suggested they come and hang out at my place this afternoon, eat dinner with me and my uncle, they were all for it. I had a desktop PC, an Xbox One and a PS4 in my room, so if they didn’t want to watch a movie, we could game or something. Pizza was an easy, short notice mean and no teen would turn down pizza!

None of the kids I hung out with at school had been over to the house. Not by plan, it just never happened. Of course, I hadn’t been over to theirs either, but that was more by plan. I often had things to do in the evening, from training with Dean to the classes I was talking at the Coast Guard station on captaining a vessel. It was not a requirement for a privately owned and operated vessel, but the knowledge was good to have.

The other reason folks had not been over was that, at first, I had been a bit skittish. Still, we had settled in to the community without a splash and I was enjoying living here. I even had my eye on a used catamaran on one of the other islands, but the ad said it needed a bit of work and I wasn’t sure if it was what I needed yet.

After school, Alan took the back seat and Debbie got in front as we inched out of the parking lot. It always seemed like it took half an hour to get out, what with all the other cars, but I had timed it on several occasions and it was only about five minutes. Einstein has that whole relativity thing right.

We made a stop at the gas station quickie mart for a couple of six packs of soda, they both wanted Mountain Dew and I preferred Diet Coke. Hey, I like the taste, okay? Anyway, I had forewarned Dean that I was bringing folks over so he was at least dressed today. There were a few days I came home and found him sunbathing nude by the pool. Nothing wrong with that, but Debbie would have gotten an eye full. Not sure if I was ready for that kind of drama, especially when Debbie got all giggly when I introduced them to Uncle Dean.

We hung out and just ... hung out. Played some games, surfed the net, talked. Pizza was ordered along with breadsticks and consumed in mass quantities. Soda was sucked down until it was gone and we were forced to revert to iced tea.

It was while we were watching some stupid show on TV, something that Alan swore was the greatest thing ever, that Debbie struck.

Okay, that sounds bad. Evidently, the girls at our table, and a few more besides, had chosen Debbie to be the one to find out who I liked. If I didn’t have my sights set on any particular girl, what kind of girl did I like?

I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. To say that I was unaware of the pairings and the drama of the high school dating scene would have been an overstatement. I was aware, I just didn’t care. No, really.

I blew Debbie off, but her unceasing questions throughout the evening made me really think about the subject. Girls I mean. I knew I was not gay, I did actually like to look at pretty girls and didn’t catch myself looking at guys. Well, that’s not true, I had found myself assessing each guy I met based on his apparent threat level, something Dean was teaching me to do.

Some of that was my natural wariness but a lot was about the training that Dean had been giving me. He once joked about entering a room and, within a minute, having a plan to kill each and every person in the room. Or an escape route, depending on the crowd size. If we went somewhere, he would quiz me.

We would walk into a pizza place down by the beach, get our food and sit down. “Who is the most dangerous person in the room? Second? Third? Why? Where are your exits? What make-shift weapons are in easy reach?” No boring “How was your day?” stuff from Dean!

The thing is, with all this girl talk ... sex was all tied up in my mind, somehow, with ... with Everett Reilly. I have seen the love scenes in movies. I have even watched porn a couple of times, mostly when I was trying to find out what people were talking about. What was a blowjob, really? What did sixty-nine mean? Ménage à trois? Blumpkin?

Um ... if you don’t already know what that last one is, do yourself a favor and do not Google it. Trust me, it is just nasty.

But when I closed my eyes and try to imagine having sex, it is all pain and blood and screaming and soulless eyes slowly growing dim and ... and I can’t sleep for the rest of the night. I recognize that this is not natural, and it was not something that came up when I had talked for all that time with Rene, I had been too young.

So Debbie, innocent, gossipy Debbie, had opened a door that I wasn’t ready to even look through, much less enter. Yet, on the other hand, this was not something I could ignore, or people would start speculating. Thank heavens for Google though, because I found out that despite the wild claims in the locker rooms, every kid my age was not banging multiple females every weekend.

I was not going to have to worry about not being a player, but I couldn’t be completely unconcerned about appearances either.

Saturday afternoon I made my monthly call to Judge Ramirez, a condition of him signing my decree, though he called it a ‘gentleman’s agreement’ as it was not legally binding. Still, he had been nothing but supportive and kind to me, and I liked the guy. He actually cared about me as a person and looked out for me.

He knew I was looking for a boat and said he had a line on one and would send me the info. He didn’t know how much it was, but I had said I like the catamarans and it was a catamaran.

After catching up with the Judge, and inviting him to come down to visit any time, I made a call to Rene. I had been talking to her infrequently, but enough to stay in contact. She had been important to me for a long time and even though it had been a job for her, something she easily let go when given the chance, I still felt a connection.

In this case, I wanted to ask her for a reference, someone down here that I could talk to. I had a feeling that I needed to get an outside opinion on this, maybe some direction. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life as a neuter, as an asexual person, all because I was afraid.

I had to give Rene a thumbnail sketch of why I wanted a therapist down here before she would help, which was annoying, but she might have a point when she said a therapist that deals with sexual issues like a rape counselor, might be more appropriate for me than a child psychologist.

Just the thought, about going to a rape counselor, made me want to hide in my room. Surprisingly, because Dean is a man’s man type, and hadn’t seemed like a guy who was in touch with his feelings, he was the one who recognized I was having issues and encouraged me to call the name Rene supplied.

“Dude, you can’t ignore this shit. The streets are full of homeless, drug-addicted veterans who refuse to deal with their PTSD or other issues. They try to suck it up, to tough it out. Some turn to drugs or alcohol. It fucking breaks my heart to see these guys out there, knowing that they have to take that step, they have to decide to get help before I can offer them a hand. So, go get help. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

Okay, so he is not so much in touch with his feelings as he is allergic to denial and bullshit, but still, he helped me.

I was able to put Debbie off, at least for now, by telling her that I was still stuck on someone back in Texas and wasn’t even ready to look for someone else right now. She bought it, making sad eyes at me as if I were broken-hearted or something. Cool, whatever works.

Thankfully, my first appointment wasn’t for another week, after school next Thursday afternoon, so no need to rush. On the other hand, I had plenty of time to obsess over it. Win, win, right?

The office of the woman that Rene suggested wasn’t far from the house. On an island only 5 miles long, not much is. I got there early and drove around the block a couple of times. The office was in a building with a bank branch, so there was plenty of parking and no one could tell where any particular person was headed.

I really didn’t want to see anyone I knew.

I parked and tried to be casual, walking in through the main doors and checking the directory to find out where the office was. The elevator took me to the second floor and the door was discretely marked, ‘Dr. Kathleen Jacoby’ and that was all.

Opening the door, there was a small vestibule only large enough to hold a couple of adults at a time, and a receptionist who looked a little surprised to see me but smiled anyway.

“May I help you?” she asked, sounding just a little skeptical.

“I am Jack McCoy and I have an appointment.” I told her, watching her expression.

She tapped on her keyboard and her eyebrows rose just a touch before she looked back up at me and smiled. “I just need to see some ID, Mister McCoy. I am sorry to ask, but we rarely have male patients here. We have had fathers, brothers and boyfriends who object to someone seeing a therapist. I hope you understand.”

I showed her my license and tried not to be angry. Not at her, that some woman, or some girl, gets raped and then her family would try to keep her from seeing someone? Why? Afraid of airing dirty laundry? Maybe feeling guilty?

“If you could step through that door and go to the third door on the left. Just open the door and close it behind you. Please do not attempt to open any other doors. We work hard so that our clients never have to feel that they are on display. The front door will admit one patient at a time and we never, ever overbook so patients chance meeting at the door.” she told me, pointing to the single door in the interior of the room.

It made sense and was a pretty slick system. I had already spotted a couple of cameras and, as I walked through the door, I saw another in the hallway. I went to the third door, went through and closed it behind me. I stood there, listening, and was surprised to hear another door open. At the same time, a click came from my door and I understood that they had locked it while someone else was in the hallway. Ingenious!

When I turned back to look at the room I had come in, it was a comfortable looking office and there, behind the desk, was a woman in her fifties. She was watching me closely, a hint of humor in her eyes as if she had figured out exactly what I had been thinking and found it cute.

The name plate on the desk read ‘Kathleen Jacoby, PhD’ so this was the woman I was looking for.

“Good afternoon, Doctor. I’m Jack McCoy, your four thirty.” I said with a smile, perfectly aware that if I hadn’t been, I would not have made it back here. She stood and shook my hand, gesturing for me to take a seat in a little conversation area with a couch, a couple chairs and a coffee table.

“Mister McCoy, can I call you Jack?” She asked. Her voice was very soft and silky. If she had wanted, I thought she could make herself sound sultry, like an actress on TV. She was not very tall, about five four or so, and had soft red hair, streaked with gray; pale, freckled skin and soft, pale green eyes. She wasn’t wearing much makeup and I could just barely smell a very light, floral scent.

We sat down and I nodded, agreeing that Jack was okay.

“I got a call from Dr. Rene DeBlasio in San Antonio who referred you to me. While she assured me that my specialty was needed, she wouldn’t break confidentiality to tell me why, saying it would be better coming from you.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to choose her words carefully.

“Jack, I deal primarily with abuse victims. All of my patients have been abused, most in sexual ways and many by close friends or family. Many of my patients have been raped or hurt and all of them are women or girls. While I know that men suffer from abuse too, there are several male therapists who deal with the victims of physical abuse. Why choose me?”

“Doctor, I didn’t. Choose you, I mean. Rene did. I assume she had her reasons. Can I ask what your degrees are? Do you have a specialty or maybe several? Is there an area where you are well known?” I asked, now certain that there was more beyond the sex angle that made Rene choose this doctor.

She sat quietly, her eyes examining my face and her posture stiff, closed. Then, surprising me, she jumped from her seat and hurried behind the desk, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper where there were some handwritten notes.

Coming back to the conversation area, she sat down again, slowly, her eyes on my face again. This time, she looked less unsure, less concerned.

“Jack, I know why Dr. DeBlasio sent you to me or, at least, I think I do. I have two doctorates, Jack. I am a psychiatrist and a psychologist. Abnormal Psychology was the focus of both my doctorates and of my continuing studies in the abnormal mind. My focus for the last couple of years has been on violence with sexual components.”

I nodded. It made sense to me now.

“You are Daniel McCoy, the boy that they found in Texas. The one who was saved from Everett Reilly” she said softly, watching me closely. I wondered now if she was really the right person. I wanted help, not to be studied.

“I have some issues still, from that time in my life. Will you ... can you, help me with them? One thing though, I will not be a subject for your research, doctor. Not now, not ever. If that is a deal breaker, I will find another doctor.” I told her, getting ready to stand.

She waved both hands, looking almost panicked. “No, please, Jack. Let me help. I would never use you as a research subject without your approval and even then, I would never be allowed to publish anything with identifying information, it would be a violation of my ethics, of the rules of my vocation!”

She seemed sincere, and Rene did recommend her, so I settled back in to my seat.

“Well. Jack, I have to say, we have already covered more than I had planned for and the session has barely begun! If you can, tell me why you are here.”

I explained that recent questions by a classmate made me start to think about why I wasn’t like the others at school, the ones I considered my friends. I was almost asexual in response to other people. I even told her about how any real attempt to force myself, to imagine myself having sex, just brought back feelings and memories from that time in my life.

“It is not unusual, Jack, many victims have to relive the act that harmed them. Often it comes back until you can face it head on, deal with the whys and the hows. Each person is different but, if you feel comfortable, I would like to know more about what happened. I think laying out the events would give me a better grasp of how they relate to the now, to what you are feeling and going through today.”

We spent the better part of an hour together. I wasn’t quite ready to relive my time with Everett, not yet, not to someone I just met. Instead, we talked about my life in general since that time, where I lived, about school and so on.

We set up a weekly session, though I told her that it might not always be possible. She wanted to see me as often as possible at first, to try and gauge what would be needed to help me. We could then adjust the schedule as the situation warranted later.

As I stood to leave, feeling good about the doctor, hopeful anyway, there was a hell of a commotion out in the hall. A woman was screaming that ‘You know! You have to know! You are hiding them! They have my daughter and you are hiding them! I am calling the police, the FBI!”

Doctor Jacoby ran out into the hall and then was quickly backed into the room again by a woman with a huge butcher knife and a wild look in her eye. I stood perfectly still as the woman backed Dr. Jacoby right past me and towards the desk.

“You look in your books, in your files. You counsel rape victims, you know the rapists, who they are. One of them has my baby, my Carmella, and you will tell me or I will gut you like a fish!”

The woman had an accent, Cuban if I had to guess, and she had the rough hands, the weathered skin of a fisherwoman. The knife was held in a hand that knew what it was doing, and she was intent on the doctor.

I waited until she was completely intent on what the doctor was doing and reached out, grabbing her wrist and twisting like Dean had taught me. I was shocked and sickened to hear the bones in her wrist snap and the knife fall point first to the floor. I had already begun to spin the woman to get a good grip on her, my arm slipping around her throat, when I made myself stop.

The woman, limp and weeping in my arms, was inconsolable. “I just want my baby back, please, please, my baby!” she wept and it was only the strength of my arms that held her up. I eased her over to the couch and gently lay her down, helping her to rest her broken wrist on her chest.

I could hear Dr. Jacoby calling for an ambulance and then she was there, next to me, pushing me gently aside so she could deal with the weeping mother.

I waited, not willing to just leave, needing to know more, to know what the woman had meant. Who had her daughter?

The ambulance came but they would only splint the woman’s arm. They couldn’t transport the woman until the police got there.

The police came a few minutes later and there was a huge argument in the hallway. The receptionist told whoever it was that they could not, under any circumstances, tromp through the office un-escorted as there were still patients in the building and some had problems with authority figures.

Finally, a single man in a mussed suit and a scowl on his face, managed to make it past the woman in the lobby.

“Will one of you, please, tell me what happened here? We got a call of a woman with a knife, then a call for an ambulance.”

“This woman says her daughter has been abducted and, since I counsel rape victims, she thought I might know the identity of...” Dr. Jacoby rolled her eyes and waved her hands around, “any local rapists who were still on the loose. She was obviously distraught but that knife was no joke.”

“Where is the knife?” the detective asked, looking around.

I took a step back and showed him where I had pushed it with my toe, up under one of the chairs. I hadn’t wanted to touch it or let anyone else touch it, so I had been standing by the chair, sort of protecting it.

“And you are?”

“One of my patients, Detective.” Dr. Jacoby said in a no-nonsense tone.

“He’s a witness, doctor. Is he the one that broke the woman’s wrist?”

“I didn’t mean to, honest. Look, I just grabbed her wrist but I didn’t realize how hard I must have grabbed.” I told him, shaking my head.

The detective took my statement and asked for the receptionist to make a photocopy of my Florida ID that showed my emancipated status. He advised me that I should notify the department if I left town for any extended amount of time as they might need more information or to have me testify in court.

The poor woman was taken to the hospital since everyone present said that they didn’t want to press charges. I took a chance and asked the detective a couple of questions.

“Sir? Are there others who have disappeared around here? I mean, I got the feeling that she thought someone local was responsible, like there were more?”

He shrugged, seeming reluctant to say, but grudgingly told me, “It will be in the paper tomorrow so ... We currently have five. Missing, I mean. All between the ages of eight and twelve, all taken from the beaches or the many marinas around the island. That is all I can really say on the matter. We have every available man working on this.”

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Except for the sex of the missing children...

When I got home, I put a call in to Jake. I couldn’t think of anyone else who I could ask the question in my head.

“Jake, Jack. Look, this is going to sound weird, but do you have any contacts at all that are not, um, strictly speaking, on the right side of the law?” I asked carefully, half expecting to be blasted by the old man.

“Jack, what are you into, son? What happened?” He sounded concerned, not angry, so that was good, I guess.

“It’s not me. I am not in trouble and I haven’t done anything, but I need ... I don’t know what I need. I need an army of men, or maybe someone who knows people who do bad things.” I said, sounding, even in my own ears, like a lunatic.

“Jake, listen, there are some girls...” I told him about what happened, about where I was and why, and how I felt when I found out about the missing girls. How I had to do something. I had to try, to help them. I was frantic and I think he could tell.

“Jack, you know you can trust me, right? Let me look at this thing. For now, you need to take a breath and try to get some sleep. You will make yourself sick worrying over this. Now, get me Dean so I can make some plans, and you get some sleep.”

I went down and handed Dean my phone. He talked to Jake a while, then I heard him talking to Dave. When he disconnected, he handed me my phone back and then went to the bar, mixed a drink and told me to drink it. All of it.

Man, I don’t know what was in that or if I am just a light weight, but I don’t remember shit until I woke up the next morning to find Jake downstairs sipping coffee at the counter.

“Morning, Jack. You drinking coffee yet? Fresh pot made.” Jake said, grinning at my shock. I looked around and saw that Dave was here, of course, but there was at least a half-dozen men in my living room too.

I poured a cup of coffee, added sugar, and sat down to try and wake up. The clock said it was already half past eight so I was way late for first period. Ah well, I can just excuse myself now.

“Jack, I don’t have any contacts on the wild side and don’t want any. I learned a long time ago that it might be harder to be honest, and certainly more expensive, it is always better to pay the price in the long run. So. I had Dave call some folks who have worked for me over the years. They brought in two dozen sharp, strong and well-trained men.”

I looked over at the guys in the living room. They were leaning over a map spread on the coffee table and Dean was showing them something. One of them nodded, snapped a picture of the map where Dean was pointing, then gathered the others with him and herded them out the door. Now only Dean, Dave, Jake and I remained.

“That was the last two teams. If there is a dark corner anywhere on this island, we will know about it by tomorrow.” Dave said, pouring himself some coffee.

Dean came over and sat down next to me. “Jack, I am glad you called someone, but next time, just let me. One of the things Dave did after you hired me was to share his rolodex and make a bunch of introductions. I would have called him first, of course, but we could have gotten this rolling just as fast without dragging Mister Reilly all the way across the country.”

“Wait, wait. Dean, I am glad he called me. After all, I told him to call if he needed anything! If you had called Dave and Dave had not told me? He would have been retired today and I would still be here but looking for his replacement. He is smart enough to know that too, look at his expression!”

Dean laughed at Dave’s sour puss, but Dave couldn’t keep it up and laughed along with him. “Dean,” Dave said sincerely, “there are certain things that are non-negotiable with your principle. It makes good sense to find out what they are and how you need to react. I think you just found one for Jack here.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully.

“So, these guys you sent out?”

“Jack, they are ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service, ex-Federal marshals and ex-DEA. The firm they work for hires only the best from government service or the military and they charge a lot because they are worth it. They have a reputation for never having failed a mission and they work hard to keep that rep. If those girls are alive, they will find them. WE will find them.”

“Jake, I am paying for this.” I said, turning back to my, what, exactly? Mentor? Friend? Grandfather-figure?

Jake started to object, but there must have been something in my expression that stopped him. He just shrugged and nodded, flipping his hand to Dave as if telling him to deal with it.

It’s good that I didn’t try to go to school, I would have been a distraction as I couldn’t sit still. Dean saw how I was reacting to the stress and told me to get some shorts and sneakers on, it was time for forms. I must have had a weird expression on my face as I looked at him, I know I was thinking he was insane, but he just laughed at me at pointed to the stairs.

I went up and changed, and came back down to find Dave tying his sneakers too, having changed into shorts. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and, like Dean, was heavily muscled but not like a body builder, more like someone who worked hard for a living. One day I hoped to look half that good. Right now, I was still skinny, though I had packed on some weight with the working out.

We went outside in the back and Jake followed, taking a chair under one of the big umbrellas so he could watch us in comfort.

Dean started us off and all three of us began to flow. From one form to the next, one stance, one movement, we were strangely in sync. I felt a thrill, even as my heartbeat slowed and my breathing evened out. We finished at exactly the same time and, for the first time since we three did this together the first time, I actually felt like I had done it right.

When I looked at the other two, I could see they felt it too and they were all grins. Jake looked suitably impressed but I could tell he had no idea what we were smiling about.

Then again, maybe I only thought I knew what they were smiling about because I certainly didn’t expect them to pick me up and launch me about fifteen feet through the air and into the pool! WITH MY SHOES ON!

Dicks.

They jumped in after me, laughing and splashing, so I couldn’t get mad at them, but my shoes! Ah well, I tried my best to drown the pair of them, even ganging up against one or the other with the help of the third. Somehow, no matter what the pairing, it was always me that was left gasping like a fish.

When we crawled out of the pool, all three of us collapsed on our backs on the warm tile around the pool, catching our breaths and soaking up the warm Florida sun.

Dressed again and sitting in the kitchen eating some cold cereal, we chatted easily, catching up with the others. I hadn’t seen Jake since we left Florida the first time, though I had talked to him on the phone a bit. I had seen Dave a couple of times, but the last time was just before the house was ready.

Jake had been playing homebody, for the most part, except for a trip to Europe to check on his investments. Dave said he was taking a class in Information Security, with a focus on cyber security so he would be more knowledgeable when talking to the folks who protected Jake’s electronic identity. He said he was never going to be a hacker, he had the wrong mindset for that, but he would relish not feeling like a caveman when talking to the guys who actually did that stuff for a living.

It came as a flash of understanding, right then, that these guys would go on learning, taking courses, picking up new skills or polishing old ones. Not for a degree or for kudos, but because they were smart men, hungry for knowledge. I had been thinking about high school. Someday, maybe, college, but the reality that learning never stops kind of struck me as prophetic in a way.

Dean seemed to feel the same and they spent a half hour discussing courses, different fields of study and what he should be looking for in the way of security for the house.

Dave had just started to tell him about what he learned about firewalls when Dave’s phone gave an odd warble. He held up a hand, hit a button and began talking. I looked closer and could see a tiny ear piece, must be Bluetooth.

“Out-fucking-standing. Stand by...” Dave said, pumping his fist. He hit a button on his phone and turned to us.

“They think they know where the girls are being held. Jake, I think we should let Jack in on this.”

“Think? You are damn right I am in on this! You can’t just leave me here, I have...” Jake cut me off, holding up his hand until I quieted down. My whole body was quivering, shivering as if I was cold or scared, but it was my adrenaline. It was coursing through my body and I needed to do something, anything!

“Jack, are you sure? This could be ugly. As ugly as when they found you.” He said, his voice grave and his eyes searching my face.

“That’s why I HAVE to go, Jake! Don’t you get it? I have to. I literally fucking have to do this. If you leave me out ... I don’t know, maybe nothing, but I feel like I will explode. Please, these guys will listen to you. Jake, please.”

Jake shrugged. “Okay. I warned you. Dave, you go too.”

“Whoa ... not happening, Jake. I am not leaving you here alone. Dean is perfectly capable of taking Jack to meet the men.”