The Secret Friend

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Walter was trapped in pitch-black darkness. There was no floor beneath his feet, and he didn't feel anything as he waved his hands around in the air – it was like he was floating in outer space, without stars, without sound.

He had been to this place, whatever this place was, once years ago, after the fire. At first he thought he was trapped in hell and then a woman's voice, soft and reassuring, had called out from somewhere in the darkness and told him not to be scared. He wouldn't be here for long. Great and wonderful miracles were about to happen.

Walter didn't know the voice belonged to Mary. It was only when the Virgin Mother of Jesus revealed herself inside the chapel had he realized that the voice belonged to Mary, his Blessed Mother.

Walter came to his senses as he was dragged out of the bathroom. His feet bounced down the steps and then he was lifted into the trunk of a car. His body was stiff with terror.

A devil with black eyes and pale skin looked down on him before the trunk shut, plunging him into darkness.

Mary was calling for him. Walter shut his eyes and, curling himself into a ball, recited his special prayer, waiting for Mary to save him. Darby talked to Hannah Givens, encouraging her to get off the couch and grab the handcuff keys from the coffee table, but the young woman refused to move. Either she was in shock or Fletcher had said something to scare her.

Eventually, Darby heard sirens and saw flashing lights. Rowley police had arrived. She called to them as they ran up the front steps.

The patrolman who cut off her cuffs said a 911 call had been placed by an unidentified male who stated that Hannah Givens and a member of the Boston Crime Lab were being held inside the home of Walter Smith. The caller gave the address and hung up.

Hannah Givens sat on the couch, sobbing into the chest of a female officer. Darby tried speaking to Hannah, wanting to know what Fletcher had said inside the bathroom, but the young woman refused to speak.

Darby's first call was to Bill Jordan. When he didn't answer his phone, she left a message, telling him it was an emergency and to call her back.

Neil Joseph answered his cell phone. Darby explained what she needed and asked him to drive to Danvers to find Jordan.

Hannah's father called as the ambulance pulled away. He spoke in a strangled voice.

'Detective Joseph just left. I told him about your partner, but he wanted me to call and tell you.'

'Tell me what?'

'Your partner called me about an hour ago and said you found Hannah. He said that she was okay and told me not to worry. I asked to speak to Hannah and he apologized and said he had to get off the phone and help you. He hung up and forgot to give me your number. Detective Joseph gave it to me. Can you put Hannah on the phone, Miss McCormick? I just need to hear my baby's voice, just for a moment, please. My wife and I have been sitting here worried sick.'

'Your daughter's on her way to the hospital.' Darby had to keep reassuring Hannah's father that his daughter was alive.

'This man said one other thing before he hung up,' Mr Givens said. 'He told me not to worry, that justice was going to be done. That's what he said. What's your partner's name? Tracey and I would like to thank him.' In the basement, mounted inside a wall, was a rolling food carrier and next to it, a door locked by a magnetic keycard unit.

Darby helped Rowley police search the rooms. When a keycard wasn't found, the fire department was called to dismantle the door.

She gave her statement to two Rowley detectives. Phone calls were made. Forensic investigators from the state lab were called but wouldn't arrive for a few hours. In the interest of saving time, Rowley PD agreed to let lab technicians from Boston help process the crime scene. Everyone agreed to share.

Word of what happened to Hannah Givens had reached the media, and by 2 a.m., the small, quiet street was filled with news vans and reporters hoping to get an exclusive, behind-the-scenes interview. Darby watched them from the bedroom window, wondering if Walter Smith was still alive.