"Party tonight!"
The man's arm around her startled Caroline. It was much too tight to be friendly.
"And here's your invitation."
She heard the click and felt something very sharp just under her rib cage. She froze, not sure what was happening, not sure what to do.
"Just keep walking, party girl." I'm your date. I'll make sure you get where you need to go."
The shock of the situation, not to mention the vodka and cranberry drinks she'd had with her friend Marrissa earlier, made her a little slower than usual to react, so the man pulled her forward along the sidewalk with him. To any passersby, the two looked like a typical Saturday night couple in downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee. The streets were full of people just like them: men and women walking to or from their cars, between bars and clubs, his arm around her, maybe even stumbling a little at times. No one would think twice about what they saw.
Caroline and Marrissa had been at one of those clubs earlier. Blue Water Grill. It was girls night out for them, which they did about once a month, picking a new place every time. This time it was downtown. Caroline loved downtown Chattanooga. It was always full of people, especially in the spring and summer. There was a vibe here. It was full of excitement.
She and Marrissa had lots of fun tonight. They always did. They talked about work and family and relationships as they drank and nibbled on appetizers. They flirted mercilessly with their short-haired, 20-something waiter with the tattoos. He didn't seem to mind showing them off, explaining what they meant and why -- and where -- he got them. He got them each to buy at least one more drink than they ordinarily would have.
It wasn't late, probably around 9:30. Dark for maybe an hour. The town was definitely breathing life now. Caroline had told her kids she wouldn't be late. The oldest was 15, so she could enjoy nights out like this sometimes without having to worry.
She was worried now as they turned the corner to a less-traveled area.
"Where are we going?" Caroline asked nervously.
"Right here, Baby," the man told her as an SUV pulled up beside them. Caroline panicked as he opened the door.
"You've got me mixed up with someone else," she pleaded. "I'm just on my way home."
"And you'll get home later if you do what I tell you now," he replied calmly but forcefully, making sure she saw the 4" pocketknife before again pressing it tightly against the lower edge of her rib cage. It had already made a cut in the white blouse she wore. Summers and even the spring in Chattanooga, Tennessee, were humid and you were always aware of that when you dressed to go out. Caroline often wore a thin blouse and as short a skirt as she could get away with. Tonight it was a denim skirt about mid-thigh with low-heeled, open-toed shoes that showed off her freshly-painted, green toenails.
"Get in."
Caroline stood and didn't move.
"I can't. I don't want to." She was terrified.
"It's not a request, honey."
He gripped her wrist and twisted it behind her.
"No! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"
He pushed her into the back seat of the vehicle. Hard. He followed behind her, shut the door and the vehicle pulled away from the curb.
*************************
By the time they arrived at what seemed to be their destination about 20 minutes later, Caroline's wrists were duct taped behind her and there was another piece of the silver adhesive pressed tightly over her mouth. She didn't fight her captor; the whole thing was insanely surreal to the point where she couldn't do anything but focus on breathing.
They stopped in a quiet residential area, pulled into a garage and closed the door behind them.
"We're here, Baby. Time to party!"
The man with the knife helped Caroline out of the vehicle and into the house. She didn't fight him and he didn't seem particularly rough. She knew she was in a bad place and didn't want to make it worse.
The house was quite nice. They were in a carpeted living room and sat Caroline on a sofa. There was an end table near the end of the sofa where she sat, still concentrating on breathing as calmly as she could with the tape over her mouth, and matching table on the other end with lamps on both. There was a big, stuffed chair near the wall and what looked to be a front door just over from it. Caroline assumed the door was locked. She knew the entrance to the garage was locked because she watched the driver set the dead bolt as he came in, before he disappeared into the kitchen.
"Make us some drinks, Mike," the man with the knife called out to the kitchen. "It's not a party without some adult beverages," he told Caroline. "In fact, let's all do a shot to start with. Shots of tequila, Mike!"
Caroline continued to look around the room. It had a homey feel to it, but she noticed a clamshell lighting set up with umbrellas and reflectors in one corner of the room. Somebody had a home photography studio here.
She noticed a hallway and could see that one of the rooms off it was a bathroom. That's the only room she could see. There were also stairs with carpet that matched the living room.
"It's a private party, pretty girl. Everyone who's invited is here. You can call me Adam and my friend in there, Mike. We were checking out you and your friend at Blue Water tonight and I said to Mike there, 'That's the girl we want to take back to the party at your place.' You look good. Damn good. And you seem like a lot of fun."
He opened up the purse Caroline had been carrying earlier in the evening. She had lost track of it in the vehicle, but Adam must have brought it in with him. It wasn't big and he had no trouble finding her wallet immediately. She had about 30 bucks cash in it, but she knew money wasn't what they were after. At least not the money in her wallet. A ransom maybe. But she wasn't rich and neither was her family.
He looked at the cash, but put it back in the wallet. Then he found her driver's license and pulled it out.
"Caroline Conley" he read. "That's a nice picture. You don't see a lot of good driver's license pictures. Hey, Mike -- nice picture, eh?"
Mike had three drinks -- three shots of tequila -- in his hands, but leaned over to look at the picture.
"Not bad," he said as he set the drinks down. "But definitely not professional. We should take some professional pictures."
"That's a very good idea, Mike. Get your stuff."
Caroline's eyes widened and her breathing increased. She pulled away as Adam took her arm.
"Hmm-mmm," she shook her head.
Adam stopped and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Caroline. Let me make this clear to you: if you do what I tell you to do, you can be home in two or three hours. I told you that in our walk through downtown. I guess what I didn't tell you is that if you do not do exactly what I tell you......."
Adam suddenly swung the knife furiously and buried it to the hilt in the pillow right next to Caroline. Dangerously close to Caroline. He slashed it sideways, pulled the knife out, then stabbed and slashed again. He looked directly into Caroline's wide and frightened eyes
".......I will kill you. And I'm not fucking around. This is your call, honey."
Caroline began to shake. She felt tears welling up. Adam composed himself.
"But I don't want that. And I know you don't want that. We're here to have some fun."
Adam swallowed his shot of tequila and let it settle. Mike had returned with his camera. And this time Caroline didn't fight as Adam took her arm and walked her over to the lighted studio array.
Mike took dozens of pictures. Pictures of Caroline kneeling, laying face down and on her side. Pictures with her skirt hiked to show some of her lacy panties. Pictures with her blouse opened down to the last two buttons. Close-ups of her wrists. Close-ups of her face. He was good; he gave clear instructions on the poses he wanted and even moved her to them if she didn't quite get it herself. It was clear, no matter how much Caroline had tried to convince herself otherwise, why she was there.
Adam, meantime, had found the phone in Caroline's purse and was scrolling through the names in the address book.
"You got kids, Caroline?" he asked.
She wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to put them in danger. But she thought if her kidnappers saw her as human -- a mom -- they might just let her go.
She nodded in the affirmative.
"You're not wearing a ring, so I assume you're not married. Boyfriend?"
Again Caroline nodded yes.
OK. Here's what we're going to do. We don't want anybody to worry about you. So you're going to call your kids and your boyfriend and tell them what you're doing. And not to worry, that you'll be home later. Understand?"
A million thoughts went through Caroline's mind. Maybe she could dial 911 instead of her daughter's number. Maybe she could somehow subtly clue her boyfriend in to the fact that she was in trouble. Maybe she didn't have to be subtle.
"Caroline?" Adam's voice had a more urgent feel to it this time. She replied with a nod.
"Good. Obviously, that means we're going to remove some of the duct tape. But if you start screaming or yelling or carrying on, it'll go right back on and, eventually, your kids will start worrying and your boyfriend will start worrying and probably with good reason. We're still going to have our party. But the choice of what happens afterwards is completely up to you. Is that clear?"
Caroline shook her head yes and Mike ripped the tape free. It stung a little, but not badly. It was a relief to have it off. It was much easier to breathe. She took deep breaths.
"First, you're going to call your kids and let them know you'll be out a while. How old are they?"
"Fifteen. And nine," Caroline replied softly. She didn't look at Adam.
"Babysitter tonight?"
