“A doctor signed that?”
“Yes. Dr. Winston.” I shook my head. “She’s a distant cousin, and Dad has helped her out a lot with burglaries at her small practice.”
“Therefore, the doctor may have signed it as a favor?”
“Exactly.” I closed the file. “Damn it, Dad.”
“There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”
“You sound like my mother. She says that all the time.”
“She’s a smart woman.” He took us onto Main Street and put us in the direction of Northside.
“I wish my father was alive so I could ask him more about the investigation. There might be details that we’re missing that could be answered from that first case.” I looked out the window.
A huge billboard of the Colors of Love showed above us. Someone had spray painted a penis on the actor’s face playing Tom Fullbrooke.
The sun rose in a dark blue sky. Soon Fullbrooke would be waking up to Brie’s smiling face as all the news outlets reported that she was missing.
I sighed. “Do you really think Vernon had that much confidence to take Brie right in front of us?”
“If it was him, then it was a confident move indeed. Granted, he doesn’t know that we’re looking at him.”
“But he must be a little nervous.”
“This would be his seventh girl. With each new victim and the fact that they’ve got away with it, serial killers gain confidence, satisfaction, and even are encouraged by their success.”
I tapped my finger on the side of the door. “That makes sense. It’s popularly believed that serial killers secretly want to get caught. I’ve heard that’s not true.”
“Not at all. They love the act of killing. And while they’re not experts from the start. The logistics involved in committing murder and disposing of the body for the very first time are complicated and requires meticulous planning. Once achieved, he or she has gained a load of confidence that can’t compare to most things.”
I considered Vernon.
Could a teenage killer truly carry out these horrors?
Novice serial killers had to learn how to target, approach, control, kill, and dispose of their victims without being detected. The learning curve was very steep. Infamous and prolific murderers such as Jeffrey Dahmer and Joel Rifkin have stated that their first kill was the most difficult one. Still, with this first murder of the Fullbrooke Six, it had been meticulously executed.
Because Vernon’s first murder didn’t start with the Fullbrooke Six, it began with his sister.
Serial killers gain valuable experience with each new, successful murder. Along the way, they perfect all of their skills and techniques while minimizing problems and avoiding critical mistakes. In other words, serial killers improved at the business of murder, which made them very difficult to apprehend.
Alexander cut my thoughts. “I thought Vernon was spooked by us. Perhaps, he was motivated.”
“Motivated?”
“By increasing the risk factors in their murders, such as killing during the daytime rather than at night, serial killers can enhance their excitement.”
“So, he probably went after Brie today to see if he could?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ. He sat at that dinner, eating calmly like he had no care in the world.” I fisted my hands. “I could wring his neck right now. In fact, I want to go over to Pastor Miller’s house and beat the hell out of him.”
“I understand. We’re all feeling that way this morning. The only problem is that we don’t know for sure. Everything points to him, but I’ve been wrong in some cases, after. . .having a heated discussion with a suspect. Trust me; you don’t want to go there.”
“Heated discussion?”
“I thought for sure I had a serial rapist. I might have come close to beating a man. Thankfully, Stein grabbed me before I laid a punch.”
I grinned. “Alexander King out of control. I would have loved to see that.”
“You act as if you haven’t seen me out of control before.”
“Have I?” I glanced his way.
He licked his lips. “A few times.”
I blushed and turned back to looking out the window.
That kiss rushed back to me. It was the worst time to even consider it. Not only was it the best moment of this whole shit show in Fullbrooke, but it was the highlight of my whole year. His lips represented smooth perfection. His tongue equated to lusty skill. And the hardness that pressed against my stomach triggered an ache that I had not experienced ever in my life. It was a kiss that had seared our mouths together—passion, dominance, and fury. And he’d unleashed a wild hunger within me.
My phone rang.
I took it out of my pocket and placed it on my ear. “Hello.”
“Haven, this is Brett.” He cleared his throat. “You were right about Pastor Miller’s father having an old church in Northside. It’s still standing and registered under the Pastor.”
I pulled out a pen and paper from my pocketbook. “Okay. What’s the address?”
“The address is 2055 Sunny Place.”
I wrote it down. “Got it. Thanks.”
“Hope that helps. Keep me up to date.”
“I will.”
“By the way, fingerprints were found on your doorway.”
“What?” Shock hit me. “Do we have match?”
“Yes. For some reason, they belonged to Sean Thompson.”
I swallowed.
“I thought I should tell you first, since. . .you used to date him.”
I sighed. “No wonder we couldn’t catch him. He used to play football. No one could grab him back then either.”
“The local police are heading to his house now.”
I shook my head. “Okay. Let me know what happens.”
“In all fairness, I think this Sean Thompson was just trying to scare you so you would go back home. Maybe, he thought this case was too dangerous.”
I snorted. “Or maybe Sean thought his father had something to do with it, and he didn’t want me to catch him.”
“Good point, Haven.”
“Like I said, keep me up to date with that. Thanks.” I hung up and put the address in Alexander’s GPS.
Alexander watched me. “That’s the old church?”
“Yes.”
“It would be a good place for a teenager to put kidnapped girls, especially if he has his own car.”
“The Millers trust him. I’m sure they bought him the car when he began working.” I looked at my phone. “Should I call Sheriff Michaelson and have his men meet us up there?”
Alexander ran his fingers through his hair. It would be a tough decision. At this moment, no one outside of the FBI knew Vernon Miller was our person of interest. If we sent the police to the Miller’s old church, the Sheriff would get suspicious. At the bare minimum, he would know that one of the Millers was being considered.
On the other hand, the craziness in Colesville was still up in the air. Sheriff Michaels and Sheriff Bran were hiding something. We still didn’t know what it was, but did not have the time to focus on it.
In the end, this was about saving a little girl, not an investigation of dirty sheriffs.
He gripped the steering wheel hard. “Call the Sheriff and give his men the address. No other questions need to be answered.”
“Okay.” I did as he asked.
“And what about Sean? I heard his name mentioned.”
I let out a long breath. “Sean’s fingerprints were found around my doorway. Brett thinks Sean was the one that was leaving me notes under my door.”
“Idiot. I’ll have to pay him a visit.”
“They’re sending local police over to check.”
“I should be there.”
“We have more to do, then check on my ex-boyfriend.”
“You think he wanted you to rush back home?”
“Definitely. And he hoped no one would be looking into his father.”
/> “Idiot. He scared the hell out of me.”
I shrugged. “I’m just glad it wasn’t Vernon or any other psycho.”
“Me too. And regardless, his actions put you in my bed, so maybe I should thank him.”
I smirked.
“You will still remain in my room.”
I didn’t argue. I’d enjoyed the kiss, and I was tired of fighting my attraction for him.
Let the cards fall where they may.
Ten minutes later, we arrived at the old church.
When we left the car, I brought out my pocketbook, holding the unit’s camera and notepad just in case there was valuable information to record.
Luckily one patrol car was already in the area. Two local police met us there. One black. The other white. They stood outside of their cars. Both had worried expressions on their faces. Most likely both were fathers. I couldn’t have imagined being a parent and working on a case like this.
The black one held a battering ram. “Hello, I’m Officer Grey.”
The other nodded his head. “I’m Officer Vidal.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Agent King. This is Agent Barron.” Taking out his gloves and putting them on, Alexander led the way.
I kept his pace.
They followed.
“Let’s go inside the church.” Alexander took out his flashlight and turned it on. “Keep your hands covered.”
The officers rushed to put on gloves.
“Check everything.” I put on my own set of plastic gloves. “This could be a possible crime scene, full of evidence. Stay on guard and be prepared for anything.”
We hurried to the front door.
There’d been no chain or do not disturb sign.
My heart hammered in my chest.
The black cop—Officer Grey—breached the door with the battering ram.
The heavy oak doors broke open, echoing around the empty church.
A flock of birds flapped, showing that a lot of the roof was gone.
We all stood there, staring into the darkness.
Chapter 29
A Small Victory
Haven
It was dark inside. This church was smaller than Fullbrooke Baptist’s property. Where the new church’s entrance had a small lobby separating the space of worship, this old one led right to where the congregation would sit and participate in devotion.
We stepped in.
The wood creaked under our feet.
Alexander stopped us and shined his flashlight on the dusted floor. Several footsteps littered the area in one long trail to the back. “These are fresh.”
Keeping a good distance, I lowered and took a picture. “This looks like two different sets of feet. Two people.”
“I was thinking the same thing. One pair of small feet and one big set.” Alexander walked on the outer side of the prints.
I took more pictures and continued forward.
A cold shiver ran up me.
This is the place.
The small prints suggested that one of the people walking were young.
Please, God. We need to find Brie. Is this the way? I’m putting all my faith and hope in you.
We went deeper into the old church. A minute later, we all stood and took in the space as if not sure of where to begin.
What was left of the church stood despite itself, defying gravity and becoming a sanctuary for animals and plants. Half of the roof no longer existed. Gnarled trees hung low in the missing area. Leaves piled over rotted pews. If there weren’t leaves, then it was thick cobwebs hanging on every surface. Hills of mud gathered in corners and in some aisles. A chilly wind howled through cracked stained-glass windows, casting an eerie glow onto the dusty alter.
Sunlight shone through branches. They were shadowy arms stretching across the places where the choir must’ve sung.
Alexander followed the footsteps. “They walked further into the back.”
Officer Vidal spoke, “Should we call backup?”
“Yes.” Alexander continued forward. “These footsteps were new, but I can’t tell when. If anything, it could be two kids that play in here all the time or. . .”
“It could be our Unsub and Brie Johnson.” I kept his pace.
Sweat dripped down Officer Vidal’s face. He’d looked the most disturbed. Officer Vidal hurried away. “I’ll. . .make the call for backup.”
Alexander asked Officer Grey, “Is he okay?”
Officer Grey nodded. “His youngest played with our new victim, Brie. They were in class together. She even spent the night at his house. He’s on edge.”
Heaviness filled my chest.
“Then, it’s good he left. Too much emotion could cause him to slip up.” Alexander stepped over branches as we approached the alter. He flashed the light by it. “A fresh bible is here.”
Making sure I didn’t mess with any of the footprints, I went over and took a picture.
Alexander was correct. A new bible lay on the rotted podium.
I swallowed down my fear. “This isn’t two kids playing.”
“It isn’t.”
Officer Grey took out his gun. “Let me know what you want me to do.”
Alexander eyed the gun. “Don’t shoot us.”
Grey’s bottom lip quivered. “I won’t.”
We headed past the alter and walked into the back of the church. The part where many of the congregation would not venture. The backstage of worship. There was no door, just a rusty wooded opening.
An odd noise sounded. Very low, but definitely out of place in the old church.
“Wait.” Alexander paused in the doorway. “Do you hear that?”
“Yes.” I leaned forward as it sounded again. “I think it’s soft laughter maybe.”
“Or. . .” Officer Grey blinked. “The. . .the laugh track to a television show.”
“That’s it.” Alexander put the flashlight in his left hand and took out his gun with his right. “Be ready, Barron.”
“Okay.” I put the camera away and pulled out my gun too.
We entered a dark hallway. All three of us stayed on the edge, near the wall in order to preserve them.
With each step, the sound’s volume rose.
Neither of us spoke.
I focused on keeping my gun ahead of me.
A desperate energy vibrated through my body.
There was a door on the left.
Please be alive. Please, God. I don’t want to see anymore dead girls this year.
Alexander flashed the light on it while he kept the gun aimed. I remained in the back ready to shoot anyone coming out.
Please, God.
Officer Grey kicked the door open.
No one lay inside. The dark room was like a place out of time—antique furniture and old paintings. Poster boards from the Civil Rights movement and decorative plates of Martin Luther King Jr. hung on the wall.
“This looks like the old pastor’s office.” I scanned the area. “I don’t think anyone has been in here recently.”
Still, the sound came further down the hallway.
We didn’t further enter the dusty room.
Instead, we headed toward the noise.
Alexander flashed the light before us. “There’s a room at the end.”
We headed that way. The closer we got, the louder the laugh track rose in the air.
Someone was looking at television.
Holy shit. Is this him?
My fingers shook, but I forced them to calm down.
This is where the noise is coming from that I know for sure.
We started again. Alexander flashed the light on that door while he kept the gun aimed. I remained in the back ready to shoot. Officer Grey kicked it open.
A little girl screamed.
My whole body froze. Both standing still, Alexander and the deputy must’ve experienced the same shock too.
There, Brie Johnson stood in front of us, holding a doll. She was next to a small black and white televi
sion. No cord came out of the TV which told me it was one of those old battery-operated devices.
My heart hammered in my chest. “B-Brie, are you okay?”
She widened her eyes and nodded. “I want to go home.”
My eyes watered. My heart damn near stopped. Relief rushed through me. “We’re going to take you home. Don’t worry.”
Officer Grey and I lowered our guns.
Alexander scanned the space and kept his gun up. “Is Vernon here?”
Brie shook her head. “No. He said he’ll be back later with a cheeseburger.”
“Holy shit,” I murmured and went to her. “We’re going to take you home. Okay?”
Brie looked from me to Alexander and then Officer Grey as if unsure about leaving with anyone else anymore. “W-where’s my mommy?”
“She’s going to be at the police station to pick you up. Don’t worry.” I extended my hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”
It took some time, but Brie finally gave me her hand. I didn’t blame the seven-year-old for her reluctance. She’d gone off with Vernon and been tricked into staying in an abandoned church overnight looking at black and white tv shows. She must’ve been scared and cold.
I lowered in front of her. “Did Vernon hurt you in any way?”
She didn’t speak but shook her head.
“Officer Grey is going to take you to his car and drive you to where your mom will get you. Okay?”
Brie parted her lips as if no longer sure of anything anymore.
“It’s okay, Brie. We are going to get you to your mom. Trust me.”
She slowly walked over to Officer Grey.
I rose.
Alexander looked at him. “Please, get her to there as soon as you can. Her mom will meet us at the police station. Once she’s with her one of our agents will arrive to ask her questions. Until then, no one talks to Brie or comes near her. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Officer Grey walked away with her.
Alexander pulled out his phone. “Stein, we found her.”
So loud, I heard screams of joy on the other side.
“Calm down.” Alexander frowned. “We need a forensics team at the old church’s location. This is where Vernon brought the little girls. Yes. That’s right. The victim named him. Get a search warrant over to the Millers. Send cops over to grab Vernon, but not until we have the warrant. Do we still have eyes on Vernon? Okay. Stay at the high school.”
Missing Hearts Page 27
