Eleven (Brandon Fisher FBI Series #1)

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Eleven (Brandon Fisher FBI Series #1) Page 5

by Carolyn Arnold


  “How was his childhood growing up?” Jack asked.

  Ellie’s eyes snapped to him. She stopped spinning the glass. “If you’re implying that I was abused, Travis witnessed it, and carried on the family tradition, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “If you know my Ellie, she wouldn’t put up with that type o’ shit.” Stewart backed up his woman.

  “How was Travis’s relationship with Lori’s brother, Lance Bingham?”

  “Now that man, he sends shivers through me,” Ellie said.

  I straightened in my chair. “Why is that?”

  “You ever meet the man?” I’m sure my eyes communicated the answer. “I guess you have. Anyway, I think he’s the one who put Lori up to rattin’ on Travis.”

  “Your son went missing back in ’86,” I said.

  “Yes. February eleventh of that year.”

  “The file reads the twelfth.” Another instance of the number eleven made a bead of sweat form on my brow, or it could have just been the stale air in the farmhouse.

  “Well, that’s the day we reported him missing. We gave him a day to see if he’d come back.”

  “We?”

  “Lori said he went off to work like any other day, only they never saw him at work. She spewed nonsense about my son having run off with a girlfriend.” She solidified eye contact with me. “My Travis would never have done that either. They wouldn’t pronounce him until ’93. They said seven years had to pass first. Not that you ever get closure without being able to...” Her words stalled as if she couldn’t bring herself to say body in reference to her son. Her eyes smeared with suspicion. “Why are you around here asking questions about my boy anyway?” Her eyes lit. “Did you find him?” She looked towards a framed photograph on a sideboard.

  “Is that your son?”

  “Yes. He was handsome, wasn’t he?”

  I saw a man in his mid-twenties, a smile forced for the camera. Nothing about him stood out to me except for the glint in his eyes. Something lurking there made me question his character. I simply nodded in response to Ellie.

  Jack’s cell phone chimed notifying him of a text message. He pushed some keys and scrolled down the screen with a fingertip. He looked at me. “It’s time we let these two get on with their day.”

  “Oh, please you never answered what made you come by.” Ellie extended her arm and rested a hand on Jack’s forearm.

  “We’re investigating his disappearance.” Jack rose to his feet and she pulled her arm back.

  “We’ll let you know if we find anything,” I added. Jack corrected me with a look that said, we don’t promise anything.

  When we got into the SUV, I did up the seat belt and looked over at Jack. “What was the text message?”

  “The photos from the prison came in and Travis Carter was one of them.”

  After a few hours Paige and Zachery had visited neighbors in a five-mile radius from Bingham’s property. Most of them only knew Bingham from occasional run-ins at local stores, but nothing much beyond that. They described him as keeping to himself and pretty much a loner. One older lady had commented, why move to a small town if you don’t want connections with your neighbors.

  “Why do we get stuck doing all this?” Zachery drove while Paige sat in the passenger seat.

  “We’re the lucky ones.”

  “Huh, I don’t see it that way.”

  Paige didn’t really care what she did as long as she kept busy and intrigued. And to her, finding out more about Lance Bingham proved intriguing. But Bingham wasn’t everything that occupied her focus. She missed Brandon and what they used to have. Even though it was brief and forbidden, he harnessed a passion for life that infused her with the same positivity. Somehow with him, despite all the negative and evil in the world, she witnessed hope.

  A few raindrops hit the windshield.

  Zachery looked over at her. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “I’m just thinking.”

  He put his attention back on the road, and she was thankful he didn’t push her to speak her thoughts. She recalled how Brandon looked at her when he and Jack returned from visiting Bingham. How he mentioned confessing sin and stared at her. He regretted everything while she just wanted to resume things. But she also noticed something else. There was definite fear in Brandon’s eyes.

  Jack pulled into the parking lot of Betty’s Place which announced itself as a variety store and a restaurant. He activated the hands-free and asked for Doctor Jones.

  “Special Agent Harper, I will call you once I have more news.”

  “The first victim you placed time of death at around three decades ago.”

  “Yes, as we’ve discussed.”

  Jack passed me a glance. The timeline aligned with when Travis Carter went missing. “And this victim was male, correct?”

  “Yes.” Impatience smeared every word from the coroner’s lips. “Age approximately mid-twenties.”

  “I’m forwarding you some pictures. Please let me know if any of these match the victims. I’ll mark the photo I’m especially curious about.”

  “You do realize that it will take more than a photo. I cannot confirm anything without tying DNA to the remains, dental records, health records, or another means of comparison.”

  “Start with facial structure similarities. Just do your best, Doc.” Jack disconnected the call, pulled out his cell, and tossed it to me. I caught it on impulse. “You hungry?”

  It was ironic how one could find their hunger when facing a case like this, but when asked the direct question my stomach growled. “I could eat.”

  “Good. You forward those pictures to Jones—,” he pointed to the cell in my hands, “—and I’ll get us something.” Jack got out of the SUV.

  I found it strange why Jack left me his cell phone when he had a good opportunity to ask the store clerk if she recognized any of the people in the photos.

  I pulled the keys from the ignition and went into the store. There was one other car in the parking lot when we pulled in, and I assumed it must have belonged to a person who worked here. So much for their tourist season.

  A bell chimed over the front door when I walked in. The store housed a small restaurant. A few tables were at the back of the store along with a chalkboard noting their daily specials. Today was hot dogs with fries and a side of coleslaw.

  “Can I help you?” A voice called out from behind the checkout counter. I couldn’t see her but knew by the fragile fluctuation to her tone, she was older. I noticed the top of Jack’s head and maneuvered around a display at the end of an aisle.

  “Oh, there’s two of ya.” The woman was barely five feet tall. Her eyes were friendly, but the look on her face indicated she wasn’t impressed by federal suits being in her store.

  I moved beside Jack and noticed he held another cell phone. His eyes went from it to me, and then to the older lady. He pointed to a couple subs stacked with meat and wrapped in cellophane that he had on the counter. “Hope that will be fine.”

  It seemed like a simple statement, but there was more there. His head slightly cocked to the right as his eyes fired with chastisement.

  “I just thought you might need your cell.”

  He took the cell from me and stuffed it into a pocket. “I was just telling Mrs. Miller here about our investigation and asking her if she recognized any of these photos.”

  The older woman smiled at me awkwardly. “I only recognize the one.”

  “This one.” Jack held up the phone, displaying the photo in discussion. I expected to see Travis Carter, but it wasn’t him. “Mrs. Miller said his name is Kurt McCartney.”

  “He lived in Salt Lick back around ‘93,” Mrs. Miller began. “I only remember because it was the year Ellie Carter’s son, Travis, was pronounced dead. How sad for a mother never to have closure. I just assumed that man—,” she gestured to the phone, “—had moved on. Not everyone can handle living in a small town. He wasn’t here too long.”

  Personally I’d
go crazy living in a small town where everyone knew my business and where I had to drive miles to reach my destination every time I got in the car.

  “You mentioned that you remember McCartney because of Travis Carter’s death announcement. How are the two connected?” Jack asked.

  I glanced at Jack. Impressive.

  Mrs. Miller glanced between us. Her eyes read, you’re investigating more than missing persons. I thought she was about to call us out, but said, “I had just found out the news, and Kurt came in the store. He was an outsider at the time, really, but when he asked what was wrong, I told him.” She offered a sincere smile. “I also remember the last name because of the famous McCartney. Kurt’s first name was harder coming to me. He just wasn’t that open, but he seemed like a nice man.”

  “So you didn’t know of anyone who would have had issue with him?”

  She shook her head. “No, not at all. I knew he was married, but never met her. Kind of strange for ’round here.” Her brow creased, and her eyes narrowed. “Is it really missin’ persons you’re investigatin’?”

  Jack dropped a ten-dollar bill on the counter and grabbed the subs. “Oh no, that’s the god darn truth.”

  A gasp escaped Miller’s mouth, and a hand went to cover it. It slowly dropped. “Why I never.” She shot me a look as if I should apologize for Jack’s language.

  “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Miller.”

  It was raining when we got outside, and the air was thick with humidity. Jack cranked the AC in the SUV. It blew out warm air for about sixty seconds. “You didn’t trust me, Kid?”

  Another car pulled into the lot. I watched as they parked beside us.

  “I’ve been around a lot longer than you.” He put the SUV into gear.

  “I know—”

  “I was serving in the military when you were in diapers.”

  “I know you could pretty much be my grand—” I left it there when Jack’s head snapped to face me.

  “Don’t push it.”

  I smiled and killed it with a bite of my sub. Maybe if I had my mouth full of food I wouldn’t say anything to get into more trouble. I sneaked in a sideways glance and swore there was a hint of a smile on Jack’s lips. Maybe I had actually impressed him back there...just maybe.

  CHAPTER 10

  Rain hit the windshield as if a heavenly damn released, and combined with the grit from the road it smeared with a chalky coating. Night had finally set in and had blanketed the county in blackness. No street lights or illumination from buildings compensated for the moon that lay buried in the sky behind a duvet of clouds.

  After we had grabbed something to eat, I forwarded the pics to Jones, tagging the one of Kurt McCartney. He had texted back and said, it won’t be today.

  We followed up with Nadia to see how she was making out with tracking down the Twitter followers and gave her a new task of pulling the background on Kurt McCartney.

  Jack and I tracked down Jason Michaels, the retired prison security guard and paid him a visit. He didn’t remember the interaction between Bingham and his sister, but oddly recalled Lori Carter fidgeting a lot. And, she wouldn’t look him in the eye, he had said.

  Jack and I met Paige and Zachery at Done Right BBQ, a restaurant that came highly recommended by the Sheriff. When we got there it wasn’t any surprise where the man may have gained part of his paunch. Ribs and huge pieces of meat slathered with BBQ sauce cooked to perfection and served with a side of fries was the main feature of the menu. I didn’t think I was hungry until we pulled up to the place. The aromas saturated the air outside the restaurant.

  We all ordered and updated each other on our findings from the day.

  “There’re still a lot of people to visit, but we don’t seem to be getting anywhere.” Zachery stuck a french fry in his mouth. “Seems to me you guys were to come back and help us out with that.” He looked at me, and then to Jack. “Ah, you were trying to be nice, you don’t do door-to-door. I should know that.” He smiled.

  Jack tapped his shirt pocket.

  I pointed to a sign on the far wall. “No smoking.”

  “Don’t you seem to know everything? Surprised you haven’t solved this thing yet.” Jack gave Zachery a crooked grin.

  I chose to ignore the mockery. “If Travis Carter can be confirmed as the first victim we have a direct connection to Bingham.” I took a sip of beer as a detour from eating. The steak was delicious but a larger portion than I was used to, and it was sitting heavy on my stomach. Jack had ordered a plate of wings and had me wishing I had.

  “And if Bingham knew about the abuse against his sister, which we assume he did based on what Ellie Carter told you,” Paige started. “Maybe he played the role of Redeemer, but instead of forgiving sins he extracted punishment for them.”

  That mouthful of beer when down hard. Paige looked at me as if she knew I was thinking of Bingham’s words, confess your sin and repent or be punished.

  Her eyes remained fixed on mine. I took another swig of beer and signaled the waitress for another.

  “Take it easy, Slingshot.” Jack tore off a piece of meat and washed it down with a glass of water.

  “I’m just surprised you’re able to put down your smokes long enough to eat.” The words, intended to come out in a joking nature, carried an underlying seriousness. Everyone went quiet until Jack laughed.

  “The kid thinks he’s a comedian.”

  “Hey, I thought it was pretty funny.” Paige smiled.

  “Well, you would.” Jack put another wing to his mouth.

  The laughter died. More wasn’t being said. Did everyone know about our past affair?

  “So the Redeemer threatened you,” Zachery said. “Quite the excitement for your first day in the field.”

  More glances were shared between Paige and me. It didn’t escape Zachery who was about to say something when the waitress came to the table and placed a refreshed beer in front of me.

  “Actually, do you serve martinis here?” Jack wiped his fingers on a bunched-up napkin.

  “Of course. We do have vodka in the county.” The waitress smiled, and Jack returned it.

  “Great, I’ll take one.”

  “Anyone else?

  “I’ll take another water,” Zachery said. “Someone here has to be responsible.”

  “It’s only because you drank so much yesterday,” I said, creating a fabrication. I ignored the fact I was told to take it easy, while it was okay for Jack to order a stiff drink.

  “Pending’s a smart ass, boss.”

  “Hmm.”

  With the waitress gone, it left us to face the reality of our day. Not that I ever had the illusion the world was a brilliant place free of evil, but being confronted with it to such a degree brought a new level of appreciation for what I did have—a happy marriage and a peaceful home life.

  Jack’s cell rang. He checked the caller ID. “And here he said he wouldn’t have an answer for us today.” He answered, and less than a minute later hung up. “That was Jones.”

  I leaned forward and turned to face Jack who was on my right. “Cause of death?”

  “He’ll start autopsies tomorrow and take a look for facial structure similarities to the pictures of the two men we’ve identified from Bingham’s photos—Carter and McCartney. But he does have something for us—”

  “Kind of crazy that someone would put themselves in the place of God to decide guilt or innocence.” Paige interrupted Jack, and then took a sip of her drink.

  “It wouldn’t be the first in mankind’s history,” Zachery said.

  “I know that.” Her brows arched downward, and she pointed her fork at him as if threatening to stab him with it.

  He held up both hands in surrender, and the waitress came back with Jack’s martini.

  When she left, Zachery continued, “It’s referred to as the God complex. They believe they can accomplish more than is humanly possible and that they’re above everyone else. In fact it’s not uncommon for serial kille
rs to have an elevated opinion of self that motivates them to exact punishment, payment, or retribution for acts committed either directly against them or society in general.”

  Paige looked at me, and it felt like she read my mind. I had enough of trying to justify multiple murders for one day. I drained back on my beer wishing that Jack hadn’t ordered a drink, and we could be getting out of here.

  “So do you guys want to know the reason Jones called?” Jack wrapped his hand around the martini glass and sat back. “Or we can continue to jabber all night.” A subtle hint of a smile. “Remember the knife on the table in the—”

  “Kill room,” I interjected. He glared at me for the interruption.

  “It wasn’t a match to the wounds on the last victim.”

  Paige straightened and leaned in to the table. “The unsub we’re looking for didn’t kill with that knife?”

  “Doesn’t look that way.”

  “Then they still have it with them. It’s intended for use on the eleventh victim.” She mumbled the words and matched eyes with me. The implication in her eyes said I could be the next victim. It caused me to swallow deeply.

  “We know that the unsub has intentions to kill again, if they haven’t already.” Jack passed Paige and me a glance. “We have to stop them—”

  “First we have to find them.” The obvious slipped from my lips.

  Jack gave me a look I had a hard time interpreting. I summoned the waitress to get the bill, hoping to dismiss any awkwardness. Jack lifted his martini in a cheer gesture and drained the glass. As his arm came down, our eyes matched. “Alarm goes off at five, so you better be bright-eyed and bushy tailed.”

  The Cave Run Lake Lodge where we were staying was a fifteen-minute drive from the restaurant. It was a two-story building with sixteen rooms. Sheriff Harris had gotten us in and called it a blessed miracle as most accommodations were already booked up with tourists. He also commented that the only saving fact was most preferred to stay in one of the numerous cabin resorts in the county.

 

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