Where's My Son? by John C. Dalglish

Author:John C. Dalglish [Dalglish, John C.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

*

Susan let herself into the house and folded her umbrella up. She liked the rain, and was looking forward to a quiet night of reading curled up in her favorite chair.

After changing into jeans, she made coffee and grabbed the latest Grisham novel. She read for a while until her eyes started to get heavy. Getting another cup of coffee, she decided to take a bubble bath and continue her reading there.

With book and coffee on the edge of the tub, she lowered herself into the soapy water. It was her favorite way to relax. She read for a while and finished her coffee. Lathering up, she slid beneath the water. As she came back up, wiping her eyes, there was a figure sitting on the toilet watching her. He was holding a pistol.

“If you scream, I'll kill you.”

Susan's eyes cleared and she slid down in the tub, hoping that the suds covered her.

“Who are you?! What are doing here?!”

“Well, I'm not here to rape you, if that's what’s running through your head.”

“What DO you want...and how did you get in?”

“It’s not important how I got in. What I want, now that's a different matter.”

He smiled.

Susan looked around for something to cover up with, but she would have to get out of the tub to reach anything. She turned her attention back to the stranger.

“You don't know who you’re messing with!”

The man just stared at her. His eyes frightened her. When he spoke, it was cold, devoid of emotion.

“What I want is information, and you're going to give it to me.”

“I'm not telling you shit!!” She spat at him.

He picked up her hair dryer and threw it in the tub. Susan recoiled and closed her eyes. Nothing happened. When she opened them again, he was still sitting on the toilet and the cord to the hair dryer was dangling in his hand.

Susan started to get out, but the gun came up and aimed at her chest.

“Don't move.”

She slid back down.

“Now, where's my son?”

“I've got nothing to say.”

She did her best not to show her fear.

The intruder slowly reached over and plugged the dryer in.

Susan's body convulsed and she bit her tongue.

When he pulled the plug back out, the searing pain released. She fought to collect herself. She could taste blood dripping from her tongue. The defiance was gone. In its place was fear. He leaned forward.

“Where's my son?”

“I don't know...who...your son is.”

The look on the man's face told her that he didn’t know there were others. The thought his son may not have been the only taken seemed to enrage him. He reached over and plugged the cord in again.

Susan let out a scream. It felt like her insides were boiling. He unplugged it, and the pain subsided.

“Baby boy…San Antonio…ten years ago. I'm losing patience.”

“I don't know…I mean…I don’t know where.”

“Where what?”

His hand raised the plug towards the outlet. Susan panicked.

“No…stop…I don’t know where he was put.”

He plugged it in again. This time her body arched up and she spewed blood from her mouth.

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