The Child’s Plan
Detective Robin Matthews Series - Book 3
Audrey Walker
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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Also by Audrey Walker
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 by Audrey Walker
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
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Shelby Griffin Mystery Series:
Academy Assassin (a Prequel) for FREE
Shelby Griffin Series BOX SET
Sleepless Night (Shelby Griffin Book 1)
Sleepless Mind (Shelby Griffin Book 2)
Sleepless Street (Shelby Griffin Book 3)
Sleepless Hunt (Shelby Griffin Book 4)
Sleepless Shelby (Shelby Griffin Book 5)
Mark Fropp Series:
Fropp’s Identity Boxset (Book 1-5)
Act of Vengeance (Fropp’s Identity Book 1)
Act of Deception (Fropp’s Identity Book 2)
Act of Deliverance (Fropp’s Identity Book 3)
Act of Defiance (Fropp’s Identity Book 4)
Act of Destruction (Fropp’s Identity Book 5)
Robin Matthews Series:
The Butcher’s Head (Robin Matthews Book 1)
One Step Ahead (Robin Matthews Book 2)
The Child’s Plan (Robin Matthews Book 3)
Past Unveiling (Robin Matthews Book 4)
The Abandoned Child (Robin Matthews Book 5)
Chapter One
Robin woke up, shivering as the basement seemed to get even colder than before. She had already been here for a month, or at least that’s what she has deduced. She knew it was getting closer to winter outside because the basement just got colder and colder every day.
“Kid?” she called out, looking under the stairs. He said he had no name, so Robin had just resorted to calling him ‘kid.’ She received no reply and assumed that he was out there somewhere, scrounging for food. It seemed there was a small vent in the corner somewhere that he often used to escape outside. He stole food from the Butcher’s house whenever the Butcher was gone. Robin had looked at the vent, but it was too small for her to crawl through. On top of that, Robin was chained up and unable to move.
She closed her eyes again and ignored her growling stomach. She thought of her sister Abby and Kyle and wondered what they were doing. Would they still be looking for her? Or would they have long forgotten her? Had they given up hope, realizing they could never find her?
A sound interrupted her thoughts, and she called out. “Kid?”
“Here,” the small child-like voice said.
Robin looked at the small weak child in front of her, gnawing on a piece of bread. He gently held it out for Robin to eat, but she shook her head.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “You eat.”
The child scarfed it all down, and Robin watched him with an ache in her heart. She didn’t know who this child was or what he was doing here, but she felt pity for him. No child should have to suffer like this. She had tried to talk to the Butcher about him, but he ignored the child as if he were a piece of dirt. He had beaten Robin to a pulp for suggesting that he let the kid go. So, the kid stayed with Robin, but she couldn’t help but wish she could help him somehow.
She had tried to ask the child about his situation, but he didn’t seem to want to answer her questions.
“I got you gift,” the child said softly.
“Oh?” Robin said hopefully. “Did you find the keys? Can you unlock me?”
She jingled her chains for effect and pointed at the padlock.
The child shook his head, and Robin sighed. It had been worth a try.
“I got you this,” he said, suddenly dropping something in front of her.
It was a cat. The poor thing hissed and tried to run, but the child grabbed it again. The child’s hands wrapped around the cat’s neck, and he started to squeeze it with all his might.
“No!” Robin shouted. “Stop it! No!”
“You don’t like it?” he asked softly.
“That’s so wrong,” Robin said. “It’s wrong. You can’t hurt them like that!”
“But I like hurting them,” the child whispered. “I like watching them die.”
“No!” She shouted. “That’s not nice.!”
She heard the thundering of footsteps and realized the Butcher had heard her. He came downstairs, laughing like a maniac, looking at the dead animal in front of her.
“A little gift from the little punk?” He said, laughing. “Don’t you like it?”
His disgusting face leered into view, and he snarled at her. “Don’t you like it?”
Robin opened her eyes and looked around the small motel room. It was dark outside, which meant it was finally time for her to leave. She was finally starting to remember snippets of her memories. Thinking back to the animal bones she had found in the basement, she wondered if they belonged to some poor animal that the child had killed.
She walked toward the small, dirty mirror and looked at her reflection. Her blond wig covered her jet back hair and pair of blue contact lenses covered her black eyes. Robin took out some putty, which she placed on her neck and molded it into a different shape. She put on a tight dress and heels, disguising herself as a hooker. A bright red lipstick was followed by dark circles, which Robin painted on carefully under her eyes. Then she gathered her stuff in the small bag she carried and stumbled out, pretending to be drunk.
The disguise was effective enough. In dark alleys like these, no one would look twice at her. There were so many drunk women around, ruined and abused, that no one would bat an eye. She had painted bruises on her body so they would think she is some low-life prostitute. If any of the men did approach her asking for some sort of sex act, she scared them off by asking if they would still do it if she has syphilis.
Robin knew the police were hunting for her, and she also knew what methods they would use to trace her. She knew all the places they thought she might go to would be under observation, like Abby’s house, her apartment, and Kyle’s place. She had to blend in perfectly so no one would even think of giving her a second look. Right now, her hideout was perfect. But it wouldn’t last for long. She would have to find another place soon. She had to keep on moving, never staying in a place long enough for anyone to predict your movements. Moving around from place to place was key, and she planned on finding a new hideout fast.
This was her life now – the life of a fugitive. The life of a criminal, even though she had done nothing – a life not worth living.
Chapter Two
“The police are still on the lookout for Robin Matthews, a detective at the task force who was recently arrested for the serial murders of multiple women. The police are stating that the detective is mentally ill and did all of this because of split personality disorder. Let us review what we know about the defamed detective. She was kidnapped by the Butcher ten years ago when she got close to catching him. She was kept captive for over five months, where she was subjected to all kinds of torture and abuse. The police believe this trauma caused her personality to split, and a dark one emerged. They claim this personality has been committing the murders and that Robin Matthews is mentally defective,” the reporter said.
“The detective is still at large, and the lives of everyone are in danger. We don’t know what this detective may do in a fit of rage or in one of her delusions. If you see this woman anywhere, contact the police immediately!” Robin’s picture flashed on the TV, and Robin frowned. They could have taken a nicer one; she looked horrible in this.
“We have with us a doctor who will explain to us about this particular mental condition and tell us what the detective might be going through, but before we do that, we would like to show you an interview with Abby Matthews, recently married and the sister of the dishonored detective.”
The scene cut to Abby standing in a sea of reporters with microphones shoved in her face. Jim stood next to her, his arm around her, silently supporting her. The moment Robin saw her sister, her heartbeat sped up, and she shivered.
“Abby,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry I did this to you. I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“Abby!” The reporters shouted. “Have you been in touch with your sister?”
“No, I have not,” Abby said, trying to push her way through. Tears were falling down her cheeks, and Robin could only imagine what she must be going through. And yet, Abby looked so brave. Despite her tears, she stood tall, her head held high and her body confident.
“What would you like to say about your sister’s actions? Do you think she has done something like this before?”
Abby, who had been trying to make her way out of there, suddenly stopped. She looked straight into the camera and said, “My sister is not well. She did what she did because of what that horrible serial killer did to her! My sister would never hurt anyone intentionally! She deserves to be looked after and helped, not treated like a fugitive! And as for you all, stop spreading rumors and lies about her! Stop it! Just stop it!”
“Do you know where she might be?”
“Of course not,” Abby said curtly.
“Do you have anything to say to her? Any message? In case she is watching this?”
This question made her pause, and she turned around and shared an unsure look with Jim, and then she said, “Robin, if you are watching this, please come back. Please. We all love you – all of us. We will help you get better. I know you didn’t commit those murders. You are innocent! It was just your illness! Please, come back to me and let us all help you. Please.”
Tears were falling down her sister’s cheeks again, and Robin swallowed hard. She wanted to reach through the screen and just hug her sister, pulling her into her arms like she did when Abby was little.
“Abby, do you think Robin will…?” The reporters continued to shower questions, but Abby turned around and tried to walk away.
“Please!” Jim shouted. “That’s enough! No more questions!”
He pushed the reporters aside, grabbing Abby’s hand, and pulled her away. The screen shifted back to the reporter at the desk, and she said, “That was the interview with the murderer’s sister. As you can see, she is obviously distressed. Which begs the question, why did no one see this coming? Why were the police not aware of the mental condition of one of their own? Is this even true, or is it a ruse used by police to prevent backlash and save one of their own? Should regular mental health checks be compulsory? How much of the fault rests on the head of Captain Roy, who leads the task force? Should he be held accountable for this?”
The Captain’s picture flashed on the screen, and Robin clenched her fist. She knew they just all are under fire for what had happened. They were all probably questioning the entire team; they may even be in danger of losing their badges. She didn’t even know what happened to Kyle or what he was going through. There was no mention of him anywhere.
“The disgraced Captain is under investigation and has been removed from his position. He is suspended from the task force, and the entire homicide division is under investigation. The public has been thrown into a panic. Anyone can be the next victim of the deranged Detective. Will our families ever be safe? A nationwide hunt for the detective is ongoing, but up until now, they have no leads.”
Robin turned off the TV and looked at her reflection. A new wig that she had stolen from a shop rested on her head, followed by a huge mustache and a beard. The pillow she had stuffed in her shirt made her appear like a middle-aged man, and she had completed the look with a tucked-in shirt and pants.
This disguise was necessary, considering where she was heading. She needed to find the identity of this child. Robin was certain he had some link to the killer. “He might even be the killer,” she thought. She needed to find him, and she had to do it soon. And she knew a place where she might find a clue.
She will have to go back to hell, back to that damn basement.
Chapter Three
Robin looked around, not noticing anyone around her. She had been cautious coming here, and she had a feeling the police might be keeping an eye on it. Even though it was necessary, Robin almost wished she hadn’t come. She knew that this was where she would find her answers. Robin could leave no stone unturned in her search. God knows what that killer might do next and who he might hurt while executing his plan. She had to find out where he was and do it quickly. The killer clearly had a personal vendetta, and Robin knew going down the path of her past would eventually lead her to the killer.
She jumped in through the window after managing to unlock it with her tools. It wasn't a trick that was taught at the academy, but Robin had learned it from her experience with criminals. She looked around the house. It appeared as empty and untouched as before. She went down to the basement, investigating every single corner. She tapped on walls making sure none were hollow, and she even looked under the stairs. Every room in that house was gone through by Robin, and she made sure not to leave any fingerprints or disturb anything noticeable.
After an hour of searching and after all that hard work, Robin found nothing; nothing to help her find the killer or make this easier for her to track him. What was she going to do next? How could this have been a failure? She was so sure that she would find something here. She had been so confident, but how could there be nothing?
“Where did you get this?” Robin whispered, looking down at the diary in front of her.
“It’s his,” the child whispered.
“Where was it?” Robin asked again.
“It’s a secret,” he said.
“How about you tell me your secret, and I will tell you one of mine?” Robin asked.
“Will you tell me about your sister? A story?” the child asked her, his eyes wide.
“I will tell you about a fun story at the park we all played at,” Robin said. “Now, tell me, where did you find it?”
The child whispered something in Robin’s ear and then smiled proudly at her. “Now, tell me about the park,” he said.
Robin gasped as she remembered. The
child, he had somehow found the Butcher’s diary, and he had told her where he found it. It was a location she doubted the police discovered, and she rushed toward the Butcher’s room. She took a deep breath in, and as the child had promised, she found the secret safe exactly where he had told her it would be.
She opened it up and found documents and pictures strewn about. Slowly, Robin took them out, one by one. She gathered the photos, realizing that they were all pictures of his victims. Behind each smiling face, the Butcher had written the name and the date of the kidnapping. Killers were known for collecting mementos of their victims, and the police were surprised when they didn’t find any. But they didn’t realize just how well-hidden they were.
Robin frowned as she observed a face that she hadn’t seen before. She turned it over and softly read, “Lilly.”
The date on the back of the photo was eight years before the first victim was discovered. “Is it possible that this woman was the original victim? Is this where he had started it all? Her body had never been discovered, but it was possible that she was missed since there was a huge gap between the first kidnapping and this woman’s,” Robin wondered. She had to find out more about the first victim, so she pocketed the photo for later. Now, Robin had a new lead, a piece of information she didn’t have before. The Butcher kept ‘Lilly’ for eight years; she must have meant something to him. “Lilly could be the key in this murder spree. Or maybe I’m going down the rabbit hole, and this discovery will only distract me,” she thought. And yet, this was her only clue, and she planned on following it.
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