Tricked

Through it all, Callie sat as passive as a small child. Greta’s kind ministrations felt good, her gentle touch such a contrast to the brutal treatment Callie had endured during these past weeks in captivity.

Was it really over? She still couldn’t quite believe it.

The sound of a siren in the distance caught her attention. It was coming closer.

“Ah, good,” Greta said. “They are nearly here.”

Just as Wolf returned with a T-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and some flipflops, the intercom buzzed. “That will be the police,” he said. He hurried away to let them in.

Callie and Greta entered the living room just as two medics rushed past with medical gear bags and a stretcher. There were two police officers there as well, a man and a woman. Fortunately, the female officer spoke excellent English.

Because there had been a shooting, they took each of the three of them, one at a time, into a different room to be questioned. Though they spent quite a while with Callie, she could barely remember what had been said. She did recall, after telling them about the abduction, that they called the Chicago police department, who confirmed Callie was indeed a missing person.

“You have made serious allegations,” the female officer eventually said. “We will need you to come down to the station for a formal statement some time tomorrow. But for now, you will need to go the hospital for a full evaluation. Especially if you plan to press charges against this man.”

“Oh, I plan to press charges, all right,” Callie said, some of her spirit returning at last.

When they allowed her to return to the living room, Damon had already been taken away in the ambulance.

“While at the hospital, he will be kept under guard until arrangements are made to hand him over to the U.S. authorities,” the police explained. “You can come with us, or you can ride with your friends and follow us to the hospital,” she continued.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of them,” Callie said. “You’ve both done so much already,” she added, turning to the couple. “You literally saved my life.”

“No,” Wolf said. “You saved your own life. I’m just glad we came along when we did.”

“And don’t be ridiculous,” Greta added. “Of course we are coming with you. We delayed our flight out, and we’re not leaving your side until this is settled. You will ride with us.”

“Thank you,” Callie replied in a small voice, hugely grateful. She had been dreading the thought of having to handle this all on her own.

Once in the car, Callie borrowed Greta’s cell phone to call her parents. It was well past midnight, and Callie expected the call to go to voicemail. But her father picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” he said in a sleepy voice.

“Dad?” Callie said, her voice quavering with emotion at the welcome, familiar sound of his voice.

“Callie!” he cried, now entirely awake. “Oh my god! You’re alive! I knew you were alive. Oh, thank god. Thank god.” His voice cracked on a sob.

A moment later, her mother was on the line. “Callie. Oh, baby. Where are you? What’s happened to you? Are you hurt? Are you safe?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Callie replied, crying too now, though they were tears of relief and joy. She gave them a very abbreviated story of the abduction, leaving out most of the gruesome details for now. “We’re on the way to the hospital just so I can be checked out and stuff. I’ll call you in the morning and we can figure things out.”

“We’re coming right now,” her mom said. “Dad’s already packing. Thank goodness we have those passports from the Spain trip. We’ve got your passport here, too. We brought back some of your things from Chicago last week, when we thought… Oh god, Callie. You’re alive. You’re safe.” She snuffled noisily into the phone.

“Call Harry for me, okay? Let him know.”

“The second we hang up,” her mom affirmed through her tears. “Then we’ll head to the airport and catch the first plane we can.”

After the police talked to the nurse behind the counter, Callie was settled on the exam bed in one of the emergency room cubicles, Greta and Wolf waiting just outside. She was examined from head to toe, including a gynecological exam to check for signs of rape. They took blood and hooked her up to an IV, as she was apparently dehydrated and slightly malnourished. If the doctor and nurse tending to her were shocked by the myriad welts and bruises that covered her body, they gave no indication. “You may have some permanent scarring on your buttocks,” the doctor eventually said. “The blood work came back fine. Fortunately, you are young and strong, and should make a full recovery, at least physically. You’ve been through considerable emotional trauma, however. That will take considerably more time.”