It didn’t come.
“Bark. Bark like a dog, girl.”
He never used their names. She didn’t think he knew them.
“Bark!”
“Arf, arf,” Rowan barked, cringing as the man laughed.
At least he’s not mad.
She continued to bark.
Something bounced off her thigh. It stung a little but wasn’t too bad. More rocks hit the ground than hit her.
“You have crappy aim for a boy. I expect that from little girls like your sister. Are you a girl?” he taunted.
Malcolm said nothing, but a rock hit her stomach. Again, it wasn’t horrible.
“This is stupid. Use these bigger rocks,” the man said to her brother.
“This one will hurt her,” said Malcolm.
Don’t talk back, Malcolm!
Rowan covered her face with her hands. The next rock hit her elbow, and pain spiked up her arm. “Owww!”
The exclamation slipped out, and she knew the man would enjoy that she’d been hurt. Another big rock hit her in the stomach, knocking her off balance, and she fell to the ground. She cried and stayed down, pulling her knees up to her stomach, trying to catch her breath.
“Throw this one.”
“It’s way too big.”
“Use it!”
“I can’t lift it,” said Malcolm. Fear filled his tone.
How big is the rock?
“You must want me to throw it,” said the man. “I’m bigger, so I can hurt her much worse. That’s what you want, isn’t it, boy? You want her hurt really bad because you hate her, right?”
“Yes,” Malcolm said quietly. “I hate her.”
“Pick it up!”
It was silent for a moment, and then Malcolm gave a small grunt. “I can’t throw it. It’s too heavy.”
“Just drop it on her.”
Still on the ground, Rowan covered her head again.
“Bark, girl!”
Rowan barked.
One of Malcolm’s shoes touched her leg. A thud shook the ground near her stomach.
He’d missed. Rowan tipped her head back, peeking below the blindfold, and wondered how her brother had picked up the huge rock that lay next to her.
“You worthless idiot! I’ll do it.”
The hiking boots came into view again, and Rowan cowered under her arms.
“This is from your brother, girl! Now you’ll know how much he hates you!”
Malcolm doesn’t hate me.
“No, please,” said Malcolm. “Let me do it! I can do it better!”
Fire exploded in her leg and shot up to her brain.
Stars danced in her eyes, and then her world went black.
21
It was nearly 8:00 p.m. as Evan worked at his desk, crafting his interview questions for Jerry Chiavo. Noelle had run out to grab some Thai food. The two of them hadn’t noticed they’d worked through dinner until Noelle’s stomach grumbled loudly. Evan had an appointment to visit the Oregon State Penitentiary the next day and was reading everything he could find about the murderer.
He speed-read through decades-old murder binders, noting Sam Durette had made the majority of the entries as the lead investigator on the women’s deaths.
I should talk to Sam again before the interview.
Reading about a case was one thing; talking to the investigator was another. Evan set the binders aside and picked up the kidnapping files on the Wolff children for the second time that day. They were thick. Evan shuffled through papers and stopped at Sam’s notes from an interview with Rowan Wolff. Age five. He’d skimmed it that morning, but now Evan forced himself to slow down and read every word. Rowan’s mother had been present as Sam questioned the child. This had taken place six months after Rowan had been found.
Sam had noted Rowan was alert, sharp, and not fearful of him. Which didn’t surprise Evan since Sam had visited her frequently after she’d been found. The detective had worked hard to gain the little girl’s trust.
Rage grew in Evan’s chest as he read Rowan’s description of her kidnapper’s games. He’d made the children hurt each other. Punished Malcolm in front of her and then blamed Rowan, claiming it was her fault he had to beat her brother. There was little food. Little to drink. Isolation in a hot shed that often got very cold at night. Rocks. Sticks. Fights.
Jerry broke her leg by slamming it with a heavy rock.
Evan looked away from the page.
My God, what he did to those kids.
He was surprised Rowan had turned out normal. Someone else would be locked away in a mental hospital. Or in prison because they’d learned to hurt others.