Girl Eight

by Melinda Woodhall

  Nessa couldn’t tell if Jankowski was asking a question or making a statement, but she could see the remark had offended Eden by the flush of color that now painted her cheeks.

  “The easy answer for everyone is that Kara is just a runaway drug addict that doesn’t want to be found,” Eden said, rising to her feet so that she towered over Jankowski. “But that doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right.”

  “Please, sit down, Eden.” Nessa put a hand on Eden’s arm and squeezed. “We’re listening, and we’ll do what we can to find Kara if she is missing. But we need you to tell us everything you know.”

  Eden sank into the chair, her back stiff but her voice resigned.

  “I’m not sure what happened, or why it happened, but I can tell you what I suspect.”

  When Jankowski opened his mouth to respond Nessa kicked him under the table, motioning for him to be quiet.

  “Okay, that’s good. Just tell us what you suspect,” Nessa coaxed.

  Eden swallowed hard and cleared her throat.

  “I don’t think Kara overdosed. I don’t think she meant to harm herself. And I don’t think she left the hospital on her own.”

  Nessa remained silent, nodding at Eden to continue.

  “I think Dr. Bellows, the therapist who volunteers at Hope House, may have misdiagnose the issue when he found Kara. And I think he may know where she is now.”

  Nessa blinked in surprise.

  “You think this Dr. Bellows is involved with Kara’s disappearance?”

  “Well, Dr. Bellows was at the hospital around the same time Kara went missing, and I think I saw Kara’s necklace in his van.”

  “Whoa, hold on you two,” Jankowski said, sitting up straight in his chair. “We haven’t even established that this girl is actually missing, and you already have a suspect in her disappearance?”

  “Well, Kara Stanislaus did pass out for unknown reasons yesterday and had to be hospitalized,” Nessa said, frustrated by Jankowski’s outburst. “And today she can’t be located at the hospital or at Hope House, which is her last known address. I think that would make most people wonder if something happened to her.”

  Nessa then turned to face Eden, offering a sympathetic smile.

  “But you have to understand that we can’t just assume Kara’s missing. She’s an adult, and unless we have evidence of foul play, we don’t know that she even wants to be found. She may have her own reasons for leaving.”

  Nessa picked up a metal clipboard and handed it to Eden.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and fill out this missing person’s report. Provide all the details you have, including contact information for Kara’s family and friends. Add any insight you have into Dr. Bellows or anyone else who might know where Kara is or what happened to her. Once we have that Jankowksi and I can review and make some initial inquiries.”

  Jankowski narrowed his eyes but kept his mouth shut as Eden began writing. After a few minutes he stood and walked to the door.

  “We’ll give you some time to fill that out, Eden,” he said. “Nessa, can we talk outside?”

  Nessa stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, bracing herself against whatever argument Jankowski was going to throw at her.

  “The whole situation does seem suspect,” he said before she could speak, “but the last thing this department needs is to be accused of police misconduct or incompetence.”

  “I know that, Jankowski. Calm down.”

  “Then you realize we can’t start a manhunt for a woman that may not want to be found just because Eden Winthrop feels that something isn’t right.”

  “No, but we can try to find Kara and ask her if she wants to be found. If she says that she doesn’t want anyone to know where she is, we can just drop the whole thing.”

  Jankowski shook his head and threw up his hands.

  “We start accusing some doctor of abducting his own patients and we’re going to be looking at one hell of a lawsuit.”

  “No one is going to accuse anyone without evidence,” Nessa said, her mind already calculating the plan of attack. “But we will need to speak to Kara’s doctor. He may have information and, if he has nothing to hide, there’s no reason he would refuse to cooperate.”

  “Right, and we’re all going to win the lottery,” Jankowski muttered. “You’re delusional if you think some doctor is going to discuss a patient just because we ask nicely.”

  “Well, we can try.”

  “Not without the okay from upstairs. I’ve spent the last three months answering questions from the feds and getting my ass chewed out by Mayor Hadley, the entire town council and anyone else who wanted to add their two cents about the kind of job we’re doing. You think I’m sticking my neck out because Eden Winthrop has a bad feeling?”

  “I thought you had a soft spot for her,” Nessa teased, wanting to talk Jankowksi back from the ledge.

  “Maybe, but not soft enough to throw my career away,” Jankowski snapped, his cheeks suddenly pink at the admission.

  “Let’s ask Chief Kramer then,” Nessa suggested. “We’ll let him decide if we should pursue the investigation and talk to the good doctor.”

  “Okay, let’s ask the chief. After all, he gets paid big bucks to make these kinds of tough calls.”

  Nessa grinned up at Jankowski.

  “So, you want to be the one to call him at home on a Saturday?”

  “Dream on, Nessa. Your idea…”

  Nessa grimaced as she took out her phone and dialed Kramer’s cell number. The phone rang four times before she heard the chief answer. After a brief conversation she hung up and shrugged at Jankowski who had been listening at her shoulder.

  “You heard the big guy. We’re to follow protocol and make sure Kara Stanislaus is missing at least twenty-four hours before we open an official investigation.”

  Jankowski nodded, not meeting Nessa’s eyes.

  “Right, and no interrogating anyone unless we have evidence some sort of foul play is involved.”

  Nessa thought about the chief’s brusque assessment.

  That young woman has the right to leave town without us harassing her or her doctor. Let’s play this one by the book.

  How was she going to tell Eden that they would have to wait until the following day to begin looking for Kara Stanislaus? And would Eden understand why they couldn’t bring Dr. Bellows in for questioning? Nessa wasn’t sure she completely understood the chief’s reasoning either, but what could she do?

  She stood outside the interview room, knowing she still had a decision to make. If she went against the chief’s orders she’d put her job at risk, but if she agreed to play by the book as Kramer wanted, she might be risking a young woman’s life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leo tried to focus on Barker’s words, but his mind kept returning to Eden and the distress he’d heard in her voice when she’d called him from the police station. He was glad to be the one she’d turned to for help and advice, but her call had come just as Pete Barker and Frankie Dawson arrived with an update.

  After twelve years of frustration and dead-ends, Leo felt sure that the connection between his mother’s murder and that of Natalie Lorenzo was the key to finding out who had killed the women, and why. Now Barker had uncovered a common link between the cases. A known acquaintance of both women had been identified.

  Leo pushed thoughts of Eden’s call aside, reassuring himself he would call her as soon as Barker explained what he’d found, and once they had formulated a follow-up plan.

  Sorry, Eden, your missing girl will have to wait just a little longer.

  Barker snapped his fingers in front of Leo’s faraway eyes.

  “You in there, Leo?” Barker asked, his voice amused. “Or are you on planet Eden again?”

  “Sorry, Barker, I’m all ears.”

  Barker dropped his notepad on Leo’s desk and tapped on the name he’d written in capital letters across the top of the page.

  “Penelope Yates.
She worked with your mother at the community health center, and she was interviewed as part of the investigation.”

  “Okay, so how does she fit into the Natalie Lorenzo case?”

  Frankie Dawson jumped up from the armchair he’d been sprawled in and slapped Barker on the back.

  “Let me tell him, man. He’s not gonna believe it.”

  Barker shrugged and sat back in his chair.

  “Just tell me, Frankie.”

  Leo tried to rein in his impatience. He hadn’t had a real lead in his mother’s case for over a decade; now that he had one he needed to keep his cool.

  “Penelope Yates was the chick that found Natalie’s body,” Frankie announced. “She was at the scene of the damn crime, man!”

  Leo stared at Frankie as if he had spoken a different language. Was it possible that one of his mother’s co-workers had found Natalie Lorenzo’s body? Did the woman have information that could help identify the killer?

  Could she even be involved in the murders?

  “Were you the one that interviewed her, Barker?”

  Leo’s eyes were hard.

  “Was Penelope Yates considered a witness or a suspect?”

  “Take it easy, Leo. She was never a suspect. She was Natalie’s social worker. They’d been scheduled to meet at the community center but Natalie never showed. Ms. Yates went to the motel to check on her and found Natalie’s strangled body. The poor woman had to be hospitalized she was so upset.”

  Leo nodded, letting out a tense breath as he tried to piece together possible scenarios. Penelope Yates had been assigned Natalie’s case at the health center, and she had worked with Helena Steele at the same facility.

  Was Penelope somehow the link between the women and their killer?

  “We have to find Penelope Yates as soon as possible. Do we know if she still lives in Willow Bay?”

  Barker nodded.

  “Yeah, Penelope Yates lives in a condo downtown. Like everybody else, her name, address, age and most of her personal details are available online. No expectation of privacy anymore.”

  “Okay, so let’s see if she’ll talk to us.” Leo reached for his phone.

  “I was thinking a less direct approach may be best,” Barker said, rubbing the stubble that was starting to sprout on his chin. “Get her talking casually and find out what she knows.

  “So, you’re thinking she might know something, or could even be involved?” Leo asked, his hand falling back to the desk.

  “We can’t be too careful,” Frankie said, pacing around the room. “We gotta assume the worst and hope for the best.”

  “You’re a real philosopher, Frankie,” Barker snorted. “But in this case I have to agree. We need to do a little surveillance, find out what she’s like. Try to have a casual chat, see what she’ll tell us.”

  “Great, I’ll go talk to her now,” Leo said, his mouth set in a firm line. “I’m pretty good at getting witnesses to talk.”

  “You could do that,” Barker said slowly, “but then she may recognize you and clam up. And she may remember me from the investigation as well.”

  Leo and Barker watched Frankie stretch his long, skinny arms over his head and yawn. He frowned when he realized they were both staring at him.

  “What? You guys want me to talk to the chick?”

  “You’re the only one she won’t recognize,” Leo agreed.

  “Unless she hangs out at the racetrack,” Barker added.

  “Screw you, Barker.” Frankie turned to Leo and nodded. “I’ll do it, man. I’ll be smoother than James fucking Bond. She won’t know what hit her.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  After Frankie had set out on his mission to track down Penelope Yates, Leo allowed himself to turn his thoughts back to Eden.

  “Why the frown?” Barker asked. “I thought you’d be happy to finally get a hot lead.”

  “I am,” Leo agreed, but he couldn’t hide the strain in his voice. “It’s just that Eden called earlier and said she thinks one of the girls at Hope House has gone missing. She’s pretty upset.”

  Barker rubbed the stubble on his chin again as he considered Leo.

  “You think maybe she’s just a bit…well, paranoid? I mean after everything that happened, maybe she’s a little too nervous.”

  Irritation mixed with guilt at Barker’s words. Of course, it was tempting for him to blame Eden’s anxiety and traumatic past for her suspicion that another girl had gone missing.

  She’d been through so much, how could it not affect her judgement?

  Her sister had been murdered years ago, leaving her to raise her sister’s children on her own, and then only a few months ago her niece had been kidnapped by a serial killer. Eden had a right to be scared; she knew first hand that the world was a very scary place.

  “I doubted Eden before, when she reported Stacy Moore missing, and I learned my lesson then.”

  Leo wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Barker or himself.

  “She may have reason to be anxious, but she isn’t making this stuff up. If Eden thinks a girl is missing, I believe her. And I want to help her if I can.”

  Leo stood and walked to the window.

  Clouds were starting to gather in the west. He wondered if they were the first signs of the storm that was heading for the coast.

  “The police are telling Eden they can’t open an official search for the girl until she’s been missing at least twenty-four hours. By then the hurricane could be closing in, and I doubt a missing drug addict will take priority over a natural disaster.”

  “No, I don’t imagine it would,” Barker agreed. “If the mayor declares an emergency everyone’s focus will be on evacuating low lying areas and securing the town.”

  “I’m going over to Eden’s and see if I can help.”

  Leo didn’t mention that he was suddenly desperate to see Eden again. The possibility that he might actually find out who killed his mother had stirred up a tumult of feelings only Eden could understand.

  She knew what it felt like to lose a loved one to murder. She understood him like no one else could.

  “If you want some help I’m available,” Barker said, moving to stand next to Leo by the window.

  “You and Eden saved Nessa’s life, and she’s one of the only friends I’ve got left, so I figure I owe you both.”

  Leo looked over at Barker, wondering about the older man’s personal life for the first time. Did Barker have a family? Or was he all alone in the world?

  Leo knew how lonely an empty house could be. The thought made him even more anxious to get to Eden.

  As he straightened the case files and paperwork on his desk, he picked up a photo of his mother and stared down at it.

  She had been a good woman; she’d worked at the community health center in an attempt to make a difference in people’s lives.

  Her good intentions may have gotten her killed.

  Maybe it’s true after all that no good deed goes unpunished.

  Leo thought of Eden’s efforts to help those less fortunate. She had opened Mercy Harbor to help abused women after her sister had been killed by an abusive husband.

  Then, when her niece was kidnapped by traffickers that preyed upon young drug addicts, Eden had opened up Hope House to offer treatment and refuge for young women at risk.

  Eden tries to help people that others have hurt. Just like my mother.

  The thought scared him. As he and Barker left the office, he wondered if Eden’s good deeds would end in tragedy as well.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kara squinted up at the sunlight streaming in through the small window above her. Her mouth was cottony-dry, and for an instant she couldn’t remember where she was, or how she’d gotten there. A persistent pain in her leg had pulled her from a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Looking down she saw the source of the pain: a wide, metal cuff tightly encircled her ankle. A thick, steel chain connected the cuff to the concrete wall.

  Memories c
licked into place and Kara screamed in terror.

  “Help me! Please, someone help!”

  Her voice was weak and ragged, and the raspy screams tore at her dry throat before ending in a painful coughing fit.

  She looked toward the door with frantic eyes, sure that the big man that had been with Dr. Bellows would appear at any minute.

  I have to find a way to escape. There has to be a way out.

  Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Kara surveyed the room, taking in the steel door, small barred window and thick concrete walls. It had been designed to be the perfect prison.

  The bed she sat on was bolted to the floor and held only a bare mattress. No sheets or pillows; no comfort had been provided.

  She inched her feet toward the edge of the bed, wincing as tender skin throbbed under the close-fitting ankle cuff. The chain was long enough to allow her to put both feet on the floor; she tried to stand.

  Her empty stomach heaved, and she retched over and over, but she had nothing to expel. Finally, her stomach stopped its dreadful spasms and she stood on wobbly legs, head spinning.

  Fighting back tears, she stared at the chain, following it with her eyes to where it was anchored to the wall with a heavy metal plate and thick bolts.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see how hopeless it would be to try to break the chain, or how unlikely it was she could somehow escape.

  I’ll never get out. I’ll be stuck in here forever.

  But then a cold realization settled in her stomach.

  Or at least until he, whoever he is, kills me.

  Kara shivered as she pictured the big man’s rough face, and his cold, greedy eyes. He could come back any minute. What would he do with her when he did return?

  She looked up at the small window set into the slanting ceiling. It had thin, metal bars across it, but allowed natural light into the room. She could tell the sun would be setting soon. That meant she’d been in the room all day.

  Whatever they’d given her had knocked her out for at least eight hours.

  Her eyes dropped down from the window and settled on a row of photographs that had been taped to the wall. She tried to focus her eyes, unsure of what she was seeing.