“Yikes,” she admonishes herself with a sigh before I can even figure out what to say. I’m usually rather good with deflecting, but something about Kendra felt familiar, like she could be a friend. “I’m sorry, that was really ugly of me. We’ve been separated for a while now and I just really want to be able to move on. He’s not a good man. He manipulated me and,” she swallows hard and stops herself from saying anything else.
That’s my cue.
“It’s not a problem, Kendra. It sounds like things have been rough and I’m sorry you’re going through it. I can remove everyone but you from your account or I can email you a link to the directions to do it yourself. It’s totally up to you.”
She lets out a quiet breath, and I can practically feel some of the tension seeping out of her. My shoulders relax right along with hers. Before she can say anything, there’s a loud bang and Kendra yelps in surprise.
I can hear something loud, but it’s not close and Kendra’s ragged breathing. “No,” she mumbles, before shouting, “Get out! Leave me alone!” She pauses and it feels like forever, and my heart sinks when she breathes out, “No.”
There’s a muffled pop and Kendra’s loud gasp in my ear has me jerking so hard I almost fall out of my chair. But it’s also what I need to get my ass moving as it sounds like the phone hits the floor. I use the information I have about Kendra’s location, which I see, surprisingly, isn’t too far away in Charleston. I never thought I would use the part of the system I work in to send a message to local police when I’m on a call. To me it was just protocol we were trained on.
But here I am.
“Why are you doing this?”
Kendra’s words are gurgled and tears start to stream down my face. This is too much. My stomach pitches, but what choice do I have? I have to stay on the line. It’s recording everything. And that’s something.
Proof.
Maybe?
I don’t even fucking know.
My breathing is coming out in choppy little pants, and I feel dizzy and seconds away from throwing up as Kendra lets out a pained groan which I feel right down to my soul. I want to scream, but nothing can come out. I send a message to my supervisor and flag the call as well.
Even though I shouldn’t, because confidentiality was drilled into our heads during training and every day since, I write down all of her information and grab a thumb drive.
“This is what you deserve, bitch,” a man snarls, his voice closer to the phone than I would like.
I hear something, shuffling maybe. Then a sound of dismay that is feminine enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge while I shoot up from my chair.
As if it would help.
As if anything could help right now.
I have never felt more helpless than I do right now. I’m silently sobbing, everything in me attuned to every breath, tear, and barely there plea I can hear.
“Please,” Kendra begs and I canhearthe tears in her eyes.
Just like she heard the smile in mine earlier when I picked up her call.
“Watching you die gives me pleasure,” the man sneers.
Then there’s sounds of scrambling and nails scratching with renewed vigor. But it only lasts for a moment.
The man grunts and then the line cuts out. The first thing I do is save a copy and put it on the flash drive. I’ll be fired if it ever comes to light, but I don’t really care right now. Things go wrong all the time.
Then I write out a report.
I write out a fucking report.
After listening to a woman being murdered, I write out a report. And the worst part? At the bottom of it is a reminder that the system is set up to deal with these things and about the confidentiality agreement we signed when we accepted the job. We are not allowed to reach out to police personally. All requests for interviews or communication will go through the company.
They say it’s to protect us, but it feels wrong.
The entire time the man’s voice circles my head. Everything he said was filled with so much hate; it was venomous. No, it was cold and that’s almost more terrifying.
He was detached in a way that makes me wonder who the man was. I’ve watched enough crime television to know the husband, about to be ex or not, is the prime suspect. But would the husband sound so detached?
