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“Are you okay, Merrie?” Tracy asked.
After a moment, a woman Alex assumed was Merrie finally answered. “Yes, I’m fine. We did all the things you mentioned at the amusement park. I ... I know I shouldn’t say this, but I had a good time.”
“Did you tell him you want to go home?” Tracy asked.
“No. It didn’t seem ... right.”
“Merrie, my name is Alex Donovan. I’m an FBI agent, and I’m here to get you out. You need to be careful. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Yes, but that’s not it. I mean, he really was nice.”
Alex sighed. “Merrie, that man took you away from your friends and family without your permission. That’s kidnapping. Abduction. And that’s not nice.”
“I ... I guess so. No, you’re right. Sorry. I just liked getting outside. Seeing grass and trees. Smelling fresh air.”
“You say he has an amusement park?” Alex asked. She hadn’t seen that coming. Was this a connection to Magic Land?
“Yeah,” Tracy said. “I should have mentioned it. I didn’t get a very good look at it, though.”
“It’s ... it’s weird,” Marla said. “It has a small Ferris wheel, a carousel, a Tilt-a-Whirl, some carnival games, and a train. And there’s popcorn, cotton candy, soda . . . hot dogs too.”
“What kind of place is this?” Alex said. “An electric fence? An amusement park?”
“I looked around the best I could when I was outside,” Tracy said. “It was dark, but there was a light . . . and the moon was full. I could tell this is a huge house, and there are woods that surround it. I didn’t notice any kind of street . . . or any other houses. And I know where we’re being kept. It had to have been a wine cellar at one time. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Although millionaire serial killers weren’t the norm, there had certainly been some. The notorious H. H. Holmes created what was referred to as his “murder castle.” It had lots of rooms, trap doors, and places where he tortured his victims. He even built a gas chamber. He opened it as a hotel but used it to kill at least twenty-seven people. Some estimates were much higher, though—even up to two hundred unfortunate souls.
Was this UNSUB another Holmes? At least fourteen women had gone missing. A man with this much money could get away with murder, and it seemed that’s exactly what was happening unless women like Sarah were alive somewhere else in the house, which she doubted. And if they had two UNSUBs, the danger was double. Had she made a huge mistake by allowing herself to be taken by these men? Would she simply be added to their victim count?
“Amy, who’s here besides you, Merrie, Marla, Tracy, and me?”
“Just Rhonda. As far as I’ve been able to tell, they have only six rooms down here.”
“That’s all I saw,” Tracy added.
“Rhonda?” Alex called. “Could you say something so we know you’re okay?”
Silence.
“Rhonda?” Marla said. “Can you hear us?”
Nothing.
“She might have had her tea already. She’s probably asleep. We all should have taken our tea by now. We’ll have to drink it soon, or they’ll get angry.”
“I don’t think Rhonda’s sleeping,” Merrie said, her voice shaking. “I think she’s gone.”
