Someone had kidnapped Emma the year before, just outside of the small gym/yoga studio she worked at. Thankfully, her family was wealthy, and her mother was overprotective. Even though she was thirty-two, Emma’s mother had insisted that she keep a GPS tracker in her bag, just in case anyone tried to steal her things.
Amelia had been with Emma the first time she was kidnapped. She knew Emma never truly felt safe after that. She’d seen how it broke her as a child. She suspected that Emma loved having an excuse to possess a GPS tracker. She probably took many precautions to not be vulnerable, and that worked in their favor.
It took three days for the subpoena and for the GPS tracking company to provide them with the information needed to locate her. Amelia worried the whole time that the kidnapper had found the tracker. She didn’t sleep, worried they’d be too late. Worried the kidnapper would come for her. Episodes of the previous kidnapping kept playing through her head. She didn’t even have to wonder how Emma would react to all of this.
Amelia was there on the scene when they approached the house the tracker led them to. The building looked abandoned, nestled among trees on a dirt road. No lights. Amelia could still hear the crunch of the gravel driveway under the tires. The white paint was peeling off the wood siding, the railing to the stairs leaning to one side, only being held up by the bougainvillea that had wrapped itself intricately around the balusters.
They found Emma in the basement in a chain-link cage resembling a dog kennel. Amelia’s heart broke for her. It looked just like a replica of the basement they had been kept in—the cage they had been kept in. Only this one was worse. Much worse. And when she saw Emma, she saw the little girl who had cried in the cage way back then who had gone silent from trauma.
She didn’t want to stay down there for one second. It made her sick. Her mind reeled at the scene before her. She had nightmares about it for months after. Every single night. But she couldn’t leave Emma down there. Never. She rushed in as soon as they cut the chain to free the door. She took her out.
Amelia stayed with her at the hospital. Checked in on her every single day. She brought Emma her favorite foods, talked to her, tried to help in any way possible. Though, at the end of everything, it seemed Emma just needed space. So, Amelia devoted herself to getting justice for her. Trapping the man who had done such a sick and twisted thing to her.
It was a miracle Emma was still alive, but Trent wasn’t sure Amelia had ever gotten over finding her. Amelia herself wasn’t sure exactly what she thought of everything. But she was proud to be the hero who had once saved her. She’d be prouder once they caught this guy.
“Since none of these businesses are open yet, let’s make a note of who has visible cameras and come back this afternoon,” Amelia said. “We know the likelihood that all of them are working is slim, but maybe at least one of them will have picked up something. I’ll leave voicemails for them all so they’re expecting us.”
“I’ll look through missing person reports,” Trent said. Despite her protests of being fine, he didn’t want Amelia to have to deal with that. Not right now. One thing that made her a great detective was that she cared immensely. But that can get to anyone after a while. “See if any missing women match our victim.” He studied her for a moment. “Ya know, maybe you’re right. Maybe he is our killer.”
She shrugged. He saw beyond the nonchalant mask she wore to hide her real emotions.
“We will find him,” he said. “No matter what.”
“I know.”
The mask fully fell as she analyzed the crime scene.
Chapter Four
“Ok, so far the Tasty Crab Café has a video they think we may want,” Amelia said as she met back up with Trent at the station. She slumped down in the chair facing his desk, already exhausted. “The Porch Café also has a video for us. Unfortunately, the Lazy Caterpillar gift shop said their only camera faces their door, so I doubt they’ll have caught anything useful to us. The beauty salon said their cameras are just for show, they don’t work at all. I’m still waiting for the rest to call me back, but those were our best hope.”
“So what do you have? Have you been able to identify our victim yet? Have we heard anything from Brenda? Did she finish the autopsy yet?”
Amelia gave Trent a few seconds to absorb the barrage of questions she was shooting at him. Then raised her eyebrows in an impatient are-you-going-to-answer-me? gesture. He shook his head.
“You’re a miracle worker, I’ll give you that. That’s more to work with than we usually have, and it’s only been a few hours. Looks like we have a really good shot at catching him this time. As for my end of the deal, I’ve found a few missing women who I think might match the description of our victim. I will bring their photos and files to Brenda, though, as she has a better idea of exactly what our victim looks like. I’m hoping maybe she can help us narrow it down. Pick out the closest resemblance.”
“I’ll reach out to their families once I can get confirmation, but I don’t want to worry anyone needlessly until I can be sure. As for the autopsy, Brenda said she’d be ready to give us a brief in about twenty minutes. So hopefully that’ll give us even more to work with.”
“Great! Have you eaten? I’m starving!” Now that Amelia was away from the corpse and making progress, her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten breakfast and only had a slice of pizza for dinner the night before. It was already well past noon. Solving cases took energy, and if she couldn’t sleep…well, at least she rarely lost her appetite.
“Can’t say I have,” Trent replied. “Some of us show up on time to work, so we’re also the ones who get the crime scene calls first. Right in the middle of breakfast.”
“I’m glad I’m not one of those people,” she teased. Though she wished she was. She vowed to be like that one day. Sure, she had the passion needed to survive as a detective, the intuition that made her successful. But she couldn’t help but admire Trent’s organization and the fact that he could always be relied on. He would always go further in his career than her with those traits. Someday she wanted to show him all she could be.
She reached for her cell phone. Today wasn’t that day. “I’m running down to grab a sandwich at the deli, you coming?”
“I’d love to, but I have a few more files to look over, so I can show them all to Brenda when we go see her. Will you grab me a Reuben and a root beer?”
Amelia chuckled. Now they at least had a lead, a place to start. She felt lighter, like she was finally getting somewhere. “Have you tried any of the other sandwiches available? Some variety in life won’t kill you.”
“Don’t need to, I know which one is best. And I think it’s important to stick to what you love. Trust what you know best.” He cracked the smile that showed how charming he really was.
She rolled her eyes as he tossed her a ten-dollar bill.
“Do you have something for us?” Amelia asked, popping up behind Brenda as she bent over the metal examining table. Brenda flinched and turned.
“Why on earth do you always enter my office like a tornado?” She shook her head as she smiled at her best friend. “One of these days you will give me a heart attack!”
“Oh, come on. I don’t always enter like a tornado,” she said, rolling her eyes, emphasizing the word tornado. “Just when I am excited! We’re so close to finding this guy, I can feel it. It’s such a relief.”
“You may be right,” Brenda admitted. “You won’t believe what I have for you.” She removed her smock and gloves and led the two into her office.
Brenda had worked there for years, so she’d had plenty of time to decorate. The office tried to be professional, with charts and big bookshelves. A mahogany desk larger than any the investigators tried to keep order.
“So?” Amelia asked as Brenda sat at her desk. “What did you find?”
“Sit,” Brenda ordered. They both did so. She didn’t like all this depersonalization of murders. She treated the whole process with patience. R
everence. “Your Jane Doe has visible vaginal injuries consistent with forced intercourse. Based off the deterioration of her body, it looks like whoever did this held her for quite some time. She has bruises and cuts that were in various stages of healing at the time of death. She’s much thinner than she should be.
“The victim was dismembered to fit into the bags. So, there had to have been some force behind this, the killer must be reasonably strong. The cause of death contributes to that conclusion; her skull has a two-and-a-half-inch crack that’s a straight line and then a perfect circle. Whatever she was hit with, it was a solid blow. Yet steady enough to leave a clear impression.”
“So, we can match a murder weapon?” Trent asked.
“Yes, if you find the murder weapon, we should be able to identify it with a strong degree of accuracy. But this is where it gets most interesting. We found multiple pieces of hair, different colors and textures, four tiny pieces of skin, metal shavings, dirt, and some fabric fibers under her tongue. As if this isn’t strange enough to begin with, to make things even stranger, it was all wrapped in a tiny piece of paper, sealed with plastic, and placed in her mouth postmortem.”
“Well, this is getting interesting,” Amelia said. It sounded like it could be a trove of evidence from the other victims, but why? It was exhilarating, but would the killer really leave something like that there if they thought it could be useful? What exactly was going on? “Someone really put a tiny little evidence vault under her tongue?”
“As crazy as it sounds, yes. I’m no detective, but I’m going out on a limb and guessing someone just sent you a calling card. They’re playing with us. They’re bored with their little game so far, I suppose. So they’ve upped the stakes. Hopefully, their arrogance will be the very thing that gets them caught. I’ve already sent everything to the lab, so now we wait for the goldmine to pan out.”
“No kidding,” Amelia replied. “This will be one of those cases where I’m checking my email every five minutes. There’s gotta be something useful among all this.”
“Well, lucky for you, I don’t think the lab has been too busy lately. It’s been a quiet week, so you should get your fingerprints back tomorrow. It should give you plenty to work with.”
“Wonderful!” Amelia looked at Trent and shared a smile. “We got him this time. We really got him.”
Trent nodded and plopped the files he’d gathered down on the desk. “Now let’s see who our poor victim is.”
Chapter Five
Brenda stared at the photos of the missing women. She couldn’t positively link any of the missing women reports Trent had given her with the body.
“We need a break to identify this woman. Have you heard anything from video analysis?” Amelia said to Trent as they headed back up to their desks.
“I haven’t yet, I expect it any time. The clock is ticking for sure. We will have to put out a statement, and I really want more information first. I am going to watch them myself and see if anything stands out.”
“I will join you. The more eyes, the better.”
It was difficult to know for sure when the body was dropped in the alley, but they knew it had been four days since they had picked trash up. So they started there. Even fast-forwarding the tapes didn’t make the process any easier. Amelia’s mind dipped into a dull lull as her eyes glazed over, waiting to catch sight of their perpetrator. It would be a long day.
Amelia jumped when Trent’s phone rang. Who leaves their ringer on these days? she thought as she settled back into her chair. He answered it and stepped out, leaving Amelia alone in the dark room to watch the sun set over the café.
Her eyes remained on the tape, but as nothing moved in the alley, she thought about her mother. About this latest victim. Emma. The evidence left behind. She worried about cages and monsters and if she could really be the kind of hero that she’d needed to save her when she was younger.
It was the oddest case she’d ever investigated, and she didn’t like it. It felt like the killer was playing a game with them. A game that they were losing. She felt…like she was losing control.
She raised her eyebrows as Trent returned about twenty minutes later but didn’t pause the tape. Wasn’t like they’d be missing much anyway.
“A new missing person’s report came in. It might match our vic. I sent the info to Brenda, but it looks good. Like a possibility, at least. It’s getting late, though, so don’t expect much before we leave.”
“I’m staying until we find something,” she snapped. She was bored and tired. Frustrated. He sat next to her and about fifteen minutes later, they were rewarded.
A tall, muscular, white man with a dark shirt, blue jeans, and a baseball cap over what looked like dark hair walked into the alleyway carrying two garbage bags. It was late, a little past two am. And he didn’t look at all like any of the local workers. He kept glancing behind him, around him. Nervous.
Amelia and Trent watched with bated breath. The man set the bags down in what appeared to be the same spot where they found their victim. They strained their eyes, but it was too dark to see much of anything notable. He looked like your average suspect. Certainly couldn’t get an ID off it. Narrowed down the suspect pool, but not by a lot.
Trent paused the tape, making a note of the timestamp, and called the tech in charge of video analysis to leave a message. As the two left the small room they’d been cramped in this whole time, the precinct was pretty much empty. Everyone was packing up for the night. Trent went to his desk.
“Well, at least it seems like the missing person report matches our victim. They are rushing the DNA. At least maybe we can give them some peace. Or some closure, anyway. I suppose they won’t have peace for a long time…if ever. All the details should be in your email.”
“I’ll check it out,” Amelia said. She hated this part. Hated seeing the pain on loved ones’ faces. “But first we should go through more of those tapes. Now that we have the timestamp, we might get lucky with the other angles. You never know what we might find. They might even have a view of the suspect’s car. That would be beyond helpful, as the glimpse we have of him just gives us a general body type.”
“At least now we know when the body was placed there, and we have an approximate time of death. More than we had when we started.”
“I agree that we should look at the others. We very well might find the suspect’s vehicle, and I hope we do. But we’ve done good work so far, and it’s late. I’m going home, and you should, too.”
“I mean, good for you.” She went to her own desk, irritated that she’d be tackling this alone. “But I’m staying. We need to get through those tapes. Time is of the essence.”
“Really? Amelia, you need rest. You’ve been running yourself into the ground. You won’t be useful to anyone if you burn yourself out. We need a clear head to tackle this case, or the killer will slip right by us again. We’ll be more effective if we take care of ourselves. Go home, get some sleep. We’ll go over them tomorrow and maybe the lab will even have gotten back to us by then.”
“Seriously Trent?” she snapped. This was getting obnoxious. All she wanted to do was solve this case and everyone was getting in the way. “Why do you always think you need to tell me what to do? I’m an adult. If I think I can handle staying here, I can. What I can’t handle is more women dying because we don’t want to put the work in to find a killer who is roaming the streets. We have evidence to follow up on.” She turned away so Trent could not see the look on her face. “I can’t handle failing victims when there’s something I can do about it. You are perfectly within your rights to go home and relax while there’s still leads to follow. But I personally can’t just let this go when there are people counting on us!”
As she glanced up, she saw how Trent’s face fell, and by the time Amelia realized how cruel her words were, it was too late. The hurt was etched clearly on his face. She hated herself for it. For always letting her emotions get the better of her, even when she tried to
be emotionless.
He grabbed his stuff and looked away. She knew she’d crossed the line, but he wouldn’t play into it. Wouldn’t give her the fight she wanted.
“Figure it out yourself then,” he said without turning back to look at her. “And for the record, you are too emotionally involved in this case to be rational. I make fewer mistakes when I take time to sleep. To breathe. To be at work on time. But you’re right, you do you. I can’t stop you. Have a good evening, Amelia.”
She watched him walk out, feeling worse by the second. Trent was a great detective. She didn’t mean to question his devotion. His skills. She just doubted herself so much. Blamed herself. She didn’t mean to take that out on him, hurt him, and she regretted it. Deeply.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” Brenda said as she stepped out from the hallway. “He had a point, you know. You have been overworking yourself, and it’s good to take a break, especially with all you have going on. At least go home at a decent time. It’s not like you haven’t run yourself ragged before. You will not forgive yourself if you miss something because your brain was too exhausted to see it.”
“Shit, you too?” Amelia snapped, mortified that Brenda had heard what she said to Trent. Like usual, though, anger ate any other emotion. It was an untamable beast. “Are you eavesdropping now? Can’t I catch a break around here? It’s none of your business. Why don’t you just focus on your job and leave the investigating to Trent and me? You do not understand the work I have to do.”
“No?” She glared. “Is it so much easier than having to examine a dead body? See the fear in her eyes? Read the bruises and broken bones? Do you hear their pain at night like I do? Agonize over whether you missed something that might’ve helped a killer go free? This job isn’t easy, not for any of us. It haunts us all, and we give our all. We all want to catch this killer. You’re not more devoted than any of us. And we all understand you have some things going on, but that does not give you the right to treat any of us the way you do. We’re in this together, but you act like we’re all out to get you.” Turning to leave, Brenda paused and decided to continue. What did she have to lose at this point?
The Darkest Secrets Page 2
