Until We Meet Again

An eerie wind blew through the black police cruiser’s cracked windows, swirling wisps of Detective Jimmy Daleson’s Camel Straight out into the moonlight. The street lamp just down the road cast spooky shadows across the sidewalk, leaving plenty of dark spaces for the night’s denizens to slink into. 

Halloween stakeouts always posed challenges for detectives, sleuthing for their mark amongst costumed revelers. “Halloween is busy tonight. Seems like the crowds are thicker than last year,” his partner Officer Dominguez remarked, eyeballing a couple of taller kids that appeared to be teenagers looking to capitalize on free candy. 

“Yeah, this is going to be tough,” Detective Daleson said. “It appears that everyone in town got the same party invite we did.” It wasn’t every day that Daleson and his partner staked out a frat house. Frats often build elaborate haunted houses as money making ventures. What made tonight’s Halloween party unique though is that the flyer Daleson was handed at the precinct bore the mark of the serial killer that had gone quiet nearly ten years before. This killer was unique because they would set up events for parents and children, then run off with one of the kids. That’s what earned him or her the moniker “The Kid Napper.”

Daleson’s confidence in his detective abilities went just as cold as that case did, considering that the killer had come after his family directly. Jimmy Daleson’s 11-year-old daughter was The Kid Napper’s last victim. The Detective found a solitary note after Lucy vanished, reading “until we meet again, Detective.” 

The Detective kept this secret to himself, until the time was right to share information. Police Chief Williams expected Daleson to hold his cards close, as Daleson and Williams had been partners investigating The Kid Napper. Their daughters had been best friends too, almost like family. Lucy’s disappearance shook everyone, but Daleson barely recovered. Two years of unemployment and intensive therapy helped, but the Chief always wondered if his friend wasn’t fully recovered. The poor guy had been a single dad, and Lucy had been an only child. Now he was an Only Dad. 

“You seem a bit off tonight, Detective. Everything ok?” Dominguez asked gently. “You good, amigo?” 

“Let’s just say that I’ve got some history with tonight’s event. I’ll tell you more as the night wears on.”

“Better late than never, I guess.” Dominguez often felt that Detective Daleson was hiding things from him. Dominguez was still considered a rookie by many of the old hands, having only been on the force for three years. But his powers of observation had cracked many cases wide open, and boosted his rise in both department rank and respect from his peers. Daleson though was a different breed altogether, and Dominquez struggled to find ways to connect with him. He had even requested a partner change, but shelved the idea when Daleson showed up stronger than expected to Dominguez’s daughter’s twelfth birthday party. His gift of a party dress was lavish and thoughtful. Clearly Daleson had paid attention to the fact that the girl loves the color green. Only a seasoned detective would make a connection like that. 

“Let’s put on these costumes and head inside. Which Dead President do you want to be?” Daleson asked, hoping that he’d get to wear the JFK mask. 

“I’ll take the Reagan mask, since I can see you eyeballing the JFK one. C’mon man, weren’t you the one who told me that “eyes reveal secrets?”” Dominguez chuckled, tossing the JFK mask over.

The masks actually made the two cops seem like they were fully dressed. Both men wore the cliché cheap suits with double-breasted trench coats, so adding the mask made them look like legit CIA. They stepped out of the unmarked patrol car and walked briskly up the road. The chill in the air had deepened, and both men shoved their hands into their pockets. The year’s first snowfall always seemed to drop on Halloween, and the crisp air suggested tonight would be no different. That put a spring in their step, and they hurried into the party.

Superman greeted them at the door, flanked by a slutty Lois Lane. The college boy’s arrogance had clearly been employed in his costume selection, and he was just full of himself. Lois had done the predictable college girl Halloween thing and worn the most revealing outfit she could find. It didn’t even look like Lois Lane, but rather a secretary in heat. 

“Five bucks each gentlemen. Kegs in the back if you’re old enough. Haunted house for the little kids starts in the living room,” Superman announced, then grinned as both men pulled their wallets out. “Um, how old are you guys?” Apparently Superman didn’t realize that adult men still used wallets and not just Venmo. 

“I’m just here looking for Lee Harvey Oswald,” Daleson said, drawing a confused look from both college kids. Apparently they didn’t know who that was, which meant they didn’t understand his mask. What the hell are these kids learning in school nowadays? 

The two detectives stepped into the big frat house, and made careful observations about the layout. A grand staircase rose to the second floor, dividing the large entry room into two halves. One side featured the living room and the start of the haunted house, and the other appeared to be set with a massive wood table that could seat at least twenty. 

“Wow, man. I’ve heard that only white American kids can afford college. Now I see why.” 

Daleson laughed. “You know, you’re not bad for an illegal.” 

“Who you calling illegal, ese?” Dominguez jokingly retorted, exaggerating his Latino accent.  “I paid the mule to help me get a green card!” 

The two men enjoyed a much-needed laugh. “You know, we make a pretty good team, Jimmy.” 

“I know we do.” 

“So what are we really looking for tonight? You still haven’t told me so I’m not sure what to keep an eye on.” 

“We are here on a cold case. About ten years ago we had a serial killer on the loose. The flyer for tonight’s party had the same symbol on it the killer used. We called this person The Kid Napper, because all of his victims were under the age of 15.”

“Got it,” Dominguez nodded his head. “Is there anything…personal, about this case?”

“You could say that. I was on the case when it went cold.”

“Is that the only reason it’s personal?” Dominguez had heard rumors that Daleson’s daughter had been abducted, but he was mature enough to never ask about it. He figured that Jimmy would tell his partner when, or if, the time was right. 

Daleson gave him a hard look, obscured by his JFK mask. He assumed correctly that Dominguez had heard the rumors. “The Kid Napper’s last victim was my daughter, Lucy.”

Almost as if on cue, the lights flickered in the house, then went out. A child screamed from the direction of the haunted house, and it didn’t sound like a fun scream. The only light available was the shallow beam streaming through the front door, coming off the sidewalk street lamp. Not much help there.

“Hey guys, someone go check the breaker box and see what’s going on,” Superman ordered into his radio. Neither detective had seen the kid’s handset amongst the cashbox and ticket pile on the entry table. 

A crackle of static came back through the radio announcing, “Houston, we’ve got a problem. The breaker box is…gone.” 

Both detectives unholstered their pistols and whipped out heavy mag flashlights. Dropping into a stealthy crouch, Daleson took the lead and began working his way into the haunted house. Flashlights illuminated the terrified faces of several families with small children, and Daleson waved them to get down. He flashed his badge to a pair of dads who gave him a thumbs up in return. Jimmy nodded and crept deeper into a macabre environment.

The first room had been done up with skeletons dressed in fancy evening wear, but the second room of the haunted house was a little shop of horrors. There was a witch’s cauldron bubbling, and various potion ingredients arranged on a large, gothic wooden table. Oddly the blacklight in this room hadn’t gone out with the others, and Daleson spotted a family group huddled together in the corner. An adult male was laid out on the floor, and four other adults and several children pressed themselves up against the wall. Two of the adults dressed in Disney princess costumes were trying to calm the whimpering children. 

Detective Daleson heard a thud behind him, whirling with his gun extended. Dominguez was seated in a chair, wide-eyed with fear. Jimmy couldn’t see any restraints, but it sure looked like he had been tied into this new seating arrangement. 

A small elderly woman emerged from behind the chair, startling Daleson and almost making him fire his gun. She didn’t seem to fit in with the other costumes and decorations the college kids had organized. She seemed…authentic.

“Hello Detective,” the old lady croaked. “It’s been such a long time.”

“You. I’ve been waiting for this moment for ten years.” 

“You aren’t going to shoot me though. That would be too easy. It wouldn’t bring you any…justice.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

The old woman cackled, bracelets rattling on her bony wrists and her frizzy gray hair dancing. “I don’t think so. Revenge only feels good in the moment, but you’ll be forced to think about all the other ways I should have paid. And you’ll think about those ways the entire rest of your life.” 

Daleson cocked the hammer on his gun, and the witch eyed him intently. She began muttering, and the cauldron frothed with violent bubbles. The black light made the entire situation surreal, as only certain colors stood out. It was distracting.

“Mommy, make her stop” one of the children whimpered, immediately swallowed into Cinderella’s arms. Daleson could hear shushing, and desperately wanted to look at the scene behind. He knew, however, that breaking eye contact with the witch would be the last thing he ever did. 

“Detective, why don’t you put your gun down and sit with us. We have so much to talk about.” At that, a wooden chair slid across the floor and he plopped down into it. It felt like he had been pushed, but that hadn’t actually happened. He understood better why Dominguez was seated. 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve come back.”

“The thought crossed my mind, yes.” 

“I seek a new apprentice.” The witch responded, almost sadly. “So I’ve come back to find a new student.”

“Where is my daughter?” Daleson demanded angrily, barely able to suppress a shout.

“I’m here, father.” A young woman that could have passed as Superman’s age drifted into the room, almost as if she was floating. She was clad in a shimmering black dress, accentuated by the gloomy aura of the black light. Her brown hair was pinned neatly into a tight bun on the back of her head.

“Lucy,” Jimmy whispered in disbelief. “I never gave up hope.” A tear streaked down his trembling cheek..

“Father, I have so much to tell you,” Lucy intoned robotically. She had clearly lost her ability to communicate with others. Apparently becoming a witch isn’t a very social process. “Madame Crezan has been a wonderful teacher. You will come to see her in a new way, but you have to let go of your anger.” 

“What have you done to my daughter?” Daleson bellowed. The family in the corner flinched, and the sound of running feet told him he was about to have a big group of frat boys to back him up. 

“What have I done? You should focus on what she has done. She’s amazing! She’s the most powerful witch of our time. There hasn’t been one like her in ages. It’s her apprentice we’re after, not mine!”

“Lucy, is this true?” Jimmy muttered incredulously. “Have you become a Kid Napper?”

“No, father. You have it all wrong.” Lucy said kindly, but rebukingly. “We do not kidnap anyone. They choose to join us. All those children you were tracking wanted to become witches and wizards. On the night Madame Crezan found me, I had written into my journal that I wanted to leave my life. I wanted something new. Mom was gone, and you, well…you are who you are.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

“I did tell you. I begged you to understand that the long nights away from the house, the stakeouts and shootouts, all of that was too much for me to handle. I’d sit up at night waiting for you to come home, not knowing if you would.” 

“And now you’ve come home,” Daleson said, hoping she’d find value in living life with him again. 

“I’ve come back, better late than never. But not for you. I came back for him,” She raised one of her black-clad arms and pointed a thin finger at the ten-year-old boy sitting next to Cinderella. The mother began wailing, desperately clutching at her son. 

The little boy wasn’t crying though. He calmly rose, and bravely strode across the room. He reached out and grasped Lucy’s hand. Lucy reached out her other hand and took hold of Madame Crezan’s. The elderly woman stretched out her arm, clasping the boy's free hand in her own. As soon as the three had connected the circle, a loud pop flashed and the room went dark. The blacklight blinked out, and the room was cloaked in darkness. Then the lights in the house flickered back to life, bathing the room in fluorescent light. Jimmy could clearly see that all three witches were gone.