Virginia Creeper Book Excerpt:

She couldn't believe she was going to his apartment. To his apartment. Life was strange in the simplest of circumstances. Would she see anything? Would there really be anything the police hadn't already found? It was doubtful. If experienced detectives couldn't find anything, how could she? She knew a little of Raymond, but the authorities would probably have much more experience. They would most likely have pulled up any flooring, examined all closets, and inspected every square inch of living space.

The ultimate question that lingered in her mind surpassed her qualms of going to Raymond's apartment. Was Janna still alive? Would they be able to save her? She didn't want the girl's screams to haunt the back of her mind for the rest of her life. They would if it was too late. There was no way she could purge her mind of them. The only relief would come in rescuing her.

The ring wouldn't stop until they got Walter. They could destroy all of the people working for him, but he would move on. They would have to kill him or incarcerate him to prevent further activities. She knew it. If Walter were so cruel and debased as to do what he'd done so far, he would find ways to continue it. If he had to build it back from the ground up, he would. Even if she overlooked his secret brutal nature, the money he stood to gain would be too much temptation for him to ignore. The more she considered the scope of everything involved, the more assured she was that the gruff caller was Walter himself.

She had to smile at the thoughts of a housewife bringing down such a merciless tyrant. She would probably never see 1.5 million dollars in her lifetime, let alone in a year. All of that money would be worthless if he went to prison. There was always the chance that he could be acquitted and feign ignorance. It was just an inevitable risk they all had to deal with.

She turned at the traffic light. Bill gave Jason the street address when he called. She hoped she got the location right. She was going into the older side of Bristol. It was where the most beautiful and most neglected buildings in the area stood. Raymond lived off of Windsor Street.

She saw a Victorian house that had been ruthlessly transformed into low cost housing. The outside still reflected the beauty of its glory days even though the elements had faded the paint and the bricks had started falling from the chimney. It was a shame. If people didn't care for a property enough to maintain it, they needed to give it to someone else. It was easy to spot a slumlord just by the conditions the tenants were forced to live in.

Bill's patrol car was parked beside the steps to the basement apartment. That should ward off anyone Walter might hire to do something to her. It was better to be safe than sorry. She pulled in the drive and sat a moment. Several other cars were parked farther up the drive, but the building appeared empty. There weren't any visible lights or movement inside. Maybe Bill scared them all into silence.

She got out of the car and slowly walked towards the apartment. She could feel Raymond's presence. It was nauseating. She clenched her hands into fists and walked closer. “Hello, Karen.” Bill peeked over the steps going to the basement and smiled. “It's down here.”

She descended behind him and swallowed hard. They entered the apartment and she gasped. “Are you okay?” Bill turned.

“I'll be fine,” she quickly answered. She had to get it over with. The apartment was everything she expected. The ceilings were dingy, the carpeting was tattered, and the tiny windows were just inches below the ceiling. The filth on the glass wouldn't let sunlight penetrate. The apartment was dark, just like his room at the cabin, and she could feel him there.

“This place is creepy.”

“Well, look at the person who lived here.” Bill quietly walked around. “You can't really expect anything more, can you?”

“No.” She wandered from one small room to the next. She could feel something else. What was going on? What arose in the back of her mind? If only Grace and Edgar, or Natasha, were there to point it out. They always gave such clarity to any situation. They helped her so much.

“Karen,” a whisper drifted. Bill was in the next room, but the whisper had come from somewhere near her. Her heart jumped with joy. Had they come to help her?

“Yes?” She whispered back.

“Down and under.”

“Down and under?” She whispered back. Down and under what? She studied the floor in the bedroom. The carpet was wall-to-wall, there was no place to hide anything. She knelt and began to feel around. It felt like solid piece of carpet, there weren't any tears or rips in the fibers.

She started running her fingernails through the pile. It was disgusting. She was going to thoroughly sanitize her hands when she got home. Who knew what germs or residues hid in the carpet? She felt around and heard, “Did you find something?” Bill peeked in from around the doorframe.

“Not yet. I'm still looking.”

“Okay, I'm going to check out the kitchen again.” He turned and walked back out of the room.

She crawled over the tattered orange carpet and felt for indentations or other indications of a secret place. The police would probably have gone over it already, but it was something. She was hoping to stir up memories. Raymond enjoyed hiding things underneath the floor. The storage room at the cabin had been below. Emily was probably the same way. They all liked hiding things.

She reached the corner of the room and felt something odd. It was a tiny nail. She rubbed it, but it didn't move. It was stuck fast in the floor. She began pulling at the small piece of metal and a flap began to emerge from the carpet. She tugged at the piece and more of the carpet came up. She was pulling a piece of the wood floor with it.

She got her fingers over the edge of the board and gently lifted up. The carpet had been pushed under the baseboard. It fell back and gave way. A chunk of wood completely came up and the carpet folded back. “Bill!” She yelled.

It was treasure hunting in its most macabre form. Instead of gold or riches, she found proof. There were articles of women's clothing, pictures, computer CD-ROMs, DVD disks, three pornographic magazines, and piles of paperwork. She pulled out spreadsheets, accounting reports, financial documents from the ownership of the domain, member lists, and more. The tiny space was crammed with evidence.

“Yes?” He came back in the room and she stood up too quickly and her head felt light.

“It's all here.” She grinned. The hidden materials were falling off the pile she'd attempted to life. “Everything. We can put them away, can't we?”

He lightly chuckled and his humor faded. “How did you find it?”

“I don't know.” She couldn't tell him about the whispers. “I just know Raymond liked to hide things underneath the floor. It was the same at the cabin.”

Bill sighed. “You know what this means, don't you?”

“Yes!” She felt like jumping. She regained balance and almost yelled, “I can go home! I can have my old home back and we can all go back to living normally.”

“Wouldn't that be lovely?”

“Yes. Oh, thank you, Bill, for bringing me here.”

“You really don't know the scope of what you're dealing with, do you?”

The atmosphere in the room changed. She gawked at him for a moment and cocked her head. What? Why was Bill acting so strange? Did she do something to make him mad? Did she tamper with the evidence? She just grabbed the papers, they couldn't fingerprint those could they? Why was the air suddenly frigid? He looked so odd in the light of the apartment. She was going to pass out.

Virginia Creeper, all content, logos, and graphics: Copyright © 2007, Laura Wright.