by Roger Hayden
The man folded his hands together and held them to his chin with glee. There was a reason he had circled the neighborhood again and again. He had wanted the van to be seen. The neighborhood would have to be blind to not take notice. The residents had come through for him. He had been counting on this moment, and now it was time to move on with the next phase of his plan.
Complications
Detective Shelton drove Miriam back to the station where she was certain to face more scrutiny. The small parking lot was nearly full. Sirens echoed throughout the town. Several major events had unfolded that day, more than any typical day in Odessa. Miriam could feel the chaos in the air.
The local news media even seemed overwhelmed with everything going on. Reporters speculated whether the kidnapper referred to as “the Chancellor of Doom” was involved in the shooting on Alamo Drive, especially after two ambulances had fled the scene, one containing a body bag.
Sergeant Bennett’s brief statement to the press only furthered speculation. Had the girls been found? What of the culprit? Who was involved in the shooting? But it didn’t take long for the media to find the name of the homeowner, and Walter Browning’s name and face were all over the news in no time. He was referred to as a “quiet man with few known friends or associates.”
When news got out that he had worked at the local Food Mart, the store was certain to face a wrath of media inquiries and public outrage, with questions like how could they have hired a man like Walter Browning? How could they have hired the Chancellor of Doom? The supermarket chain was facing a tremendous backlash with nothing verified yet.
Miriam looked up from her phone, where the latest reports were spotty at best. Detective Shelton rested his hands on the steering wheel as the car idled in park. From the rearview mirror, Detective Hayes drove past in his newly recovered Crown Victoria. The crime scene unit remained at Walter Browning’s house with several officers cordoning off the area.
Miriam wanted to be there to assist in gathering evidence, but she understood why they had to leave in such a hurry. Her involvement in the case hadn’t been declared in any official capacity, and the detectives had promised her anonymity. Time had passed so quickly since the Snatcher case a year prior that it was hard for Miriam to believe that she was involved in another one.
Since meeting him two days prior, Detective Shelton hadn’t said much to her overall. He had been quiet and reserved, seeming always in contemplation. Detective Hayes was older and more vocal. Shelton, on the other hand, was an enigma to her. His background as a black man from Chicago who had moved to Texas a few years back with no family or relatives in the area had intrigued her. Perhaps he wanted a change. She had moved from Florida to Phoenix wanting the same thing and could relate.
Shelton’s silence had made it clear that all wasn’t well. Miriam had taken heat from the Ector County Police Captain, and his anger, she believed, was justified. Entering a man’s house with no warrant and putting two bullets into his chest was problematic no matter how the authorities looked at it. She was a long way from home. There was always probable cause. She had the letters, and most importantly, she had found Natalie Forester. That had to count for something.
Evidence of a second kidnapper, however, was insufficient. He had called her though. A search of Walter Browning’s phone records would show that. Such thoughts permeated her mind as Miriam felt the tension between her and the normally quiet detective. She leaned forward, prepared to break the silence.
“What do you want from me, Detective Shelton?”
He turned his vacant stare from the busy Odessa police station to Miriam as he scratched his chin. “At what point did you decide that you couldn’t work with us?” he asked.
Miriam felt confused by his response, defensive even. “What do you mean?”
“When you left to get coffee this morning, when did you decide to go on your own fact-finding mission? There’s going to be an internal investigation, so be ready. They’re going to want to know every single detail again and again.”
Miriam stared at the back of his head, feeling more defensive than she had expected. “I’m confident that an investigation would clear me of any wrongdoing. If your department takes issue with my actions, I assume there is nothing more I can do for this case.”
Shelton cleared his throat and turned down the police radio below the dashboard. “With all due respect, Ma’am, things work a little differently out here. Detective Hayes is old school. He’s loyal, and maybe he’ll understand better than me what you did. I read your file. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone at it alone. That’s how you found the Snatcher, isn’t it?”
Miriam gripped her armrest, trying to remain calm. “If you knew all this, why’d you ask me to come out here? Why’d you ask for my assistance?” She then tried to open her door from the back, but it was locked.
Shelton shifted around, his face inches from the passenger cage. “The kidnapper asked for you by name. That’s why we got you out here.”
Miriam retracted her arm with a sigh. “And what if he had asked for the President of the United States? Would you have delivered him too?”
“Probably,” he said, smiling. His friendly expression then suddenly changed to sternness. “We want your help, Lieutenant. But from this minute forward, we need to be on the same page. Deal?”
Miriam nodded and tried to speak, only to be cut off by Shelton, who clearly wasn’t finished.
“About the sting operation. You were right. This guy is apparently too sophisticated to be lured in. He might even be watching us, as you’ve suggested. We need you now more than ever.”
Miriam looked out her window and examined the police cruisers surrounding her. She pulled her broken cell phone from her pocket with a feeling of despair. She hadn’t talked to Lou or Ana for hours. If her name ended up in the news, she couldn’t imagine their worry.
“I don’t know if I can put my family through this again, Detective,” she said.
Shelton pulled at his bottom lip with an understanding nod. “I gotcha, Lieutenant, I really do. We’re so close, though. I can feel it.”
“Underestimating him was our first mistake,” Miriam said.
Suddenly a knock came at her window, with Detective Hayes standing outside. “You guys ready to go inside yet?” he asked, shielding the sunlight from his face with one hand. He pulled at Miriam’s door, but it was locked.
Shelton acknowledged his partner’s presence and then spoke softly, prepared to unlock her door with the push of a button on his armrest. “I think we can both learn to trust each other and catch this bastard before he destroys another family.” He smiled again and then shifted to a more personal tone. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. My favorite drink is Bacardi Lime. Don’t ask me why. About every other detective on the force would laugh in my face if this ever got out.”
Miriam couldn’t help but laugh. “Fascinating insight into your life, Detective. I wonder what other fascinating secrets lie beneath your hardened exterior.”
“Just you wait, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping out of the car.
Detective Hayes opened Miriam’s door and held it as she stepped out and thanked him. For a moment, it felt as though she was under arrest. The local police station was packed beyond anything Miriam had seen since arriving in town. Ector County PD had made their presence known. Everyone had been called up, on or off-duty.
The quiet station Miriam had seen earlier, with only Sergeant Bennett and Corporal Taylor on-shift, was no more. Detective Hayes led Miriam toward the station as Shelton circled around and blocked their path.
“I think we’re good now, right, Lieutenant?”
Miriam nodded as Hayes glanced between them with a reserved demeanor. “I certainly hope so,” he said.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more up front,” Miriam said. “I didn’t expect things to turn out like they did. It all just sort of happened.”
“You had us worried as hell,” Detective Hayes said. “Yo
u should have called for backup. We’re responsible for your safety, remember?”
“Yes, I know that,” Miriam said. “It won’t happen again.”
Hayes stepped back and scratched his head. “So, what’s this about another kidnapper?”
“Walter Browning kidnapped Natalie, yes. But there is someone else, and he’s still out there.”
Hayes brought his hand down his face and shook his head, frustrated. “First things first. We need to get a statement from you on everything that happened today. Then we’ll decide how we’re going to proceed.”
She then looked at Shelton for guidance.
“It won’t take long, Lieutenant. Just a formality,” he said.
I’m getting too old for this business, she thought.
In agreement, they walked together to the station entrance. A helicopter hovered from afar as sirens continued in the distance. There was a lot to get caught up on, and she was certain that the second man was planning his next move. Hayes pushed open the entrance door and Miriam saw exactly what she expected: a room full of police officers packed inside and taking up every desk and office telephone in sight. Hayes breezed past her and stood in the lobby, observing the activity before them. He turned around to face Shelton with a certain disappointment in his eyes.
“We’re losing the lead on this case. There’re too many chiefs.”
Shelton signaled to an unoccupied room past the front counter where a door was halfway open. “Why don’t we set up camp there for a bit?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Hayes said.
Miriam followed the detectives past the counter and to the left, entering what appeared to be an empty room with blank walls, green tiled floor, and a table and four chairs in the center. Shelton flipped on the light switch as two overhead fluorescent bulbs flickered on. Miriam closed the door behind her and things went quiet again.
“Okay,” Hayes said, pulling a chair out. “Let’s talk.”
He tossed a ledger on the table and took a seat. Shelton sat down next to him as Miriam stood over the chair across from them with uncertainty. Was this an interrogation? She sat down anyway under the glow of the buzzing lights above and told them everything from the moment she had left the station earlier that morning to her arrival at 2051 Alamo Drive, where Walter Browning awaited.
Both detectives scribbled along, taking notes while pausing intermittently in stunned response as she explained what had happened, beginning with the note left for her at the used car lot, the note on her windshield, and her visit to the auto parts store, which led her to the house in question.
After she finished recounting the events of the day, Hayes tapped his fingers along his lips and asked the first question. “Do you think this person who called you, this so-called mastermind, just had it in for Walter Browning? Maybe he’s not really the kidnapper after all. Do we have any evidence to say otherwise?”
Miriam leaned forward, held her palm out, and counted on her fingers. “We had the first note left at the Food Mart after Natalie’s disappearance, the note delivered to her parents, and the two notes written to me.”
“Don’t forget the finger,” Shelton interjected.
“Yes, and what does all of that prove?” Hayes asked.
Shelton turned to him as though the answer was obvious. “You really think one person could orchestrate all of this? Walter Browning was a twenty-nine-year-old bag boy. He may have been involved, but I think Lieutenant Sandoval is right. There’s someone pulling the strings here.”
“He called Mr. Browning’s house moments after shots were fired,” Miriam said. “He was close. Right outside the house. He cut or had someone cut the phone line right after the call, preventing me from calling the police.”
“How’d he know that your cell phone was too damaged to make the call?” Hayes asked.
“He probably didn’t,” she answered. “Either way, he was trying to send a message.”
Shelton scanned his notes in astute concentration and then spoke. “We have the bike carrier in custody, we have the finger, and we have your testimony,” he said, pointing to Miriam. “That’s a big start right there.”
“We’ll need you to write it all down,” Hayes said, looking around the room. “I’ll find some report forms.”
Miriam leaned her head back with a sigh. Official statements were no fun to write in any capacity. “We need to look at every piece of evidence in Walter Browning’s house,” she said. “Starting with his computer.”
Shelton tapped his notepad with his pen. “We also need to get to that hospital pronto and talk to Natalie Forester.”
Hayes squinted and looked at Miriam’s right ear, nicked and encrusted with dried blood. “And you need to have your ear looked at. Are you in any pain?”
Miriam lightly touched her earlobe and shook her head. “I’m fine. I need to call home first. Could I use one of your phones?”
“Certainly,” Shelton said, reaching into his coat. Suddenly, his cell began to vibrate. He examined the caller ID with excitement. “It’s Forensics. News about the finger, I hope.”
“This is Shelton.” He paused, listening with a nod. “Okay, and how long will that take?” His face seemed to drop at the answer. “No. That’s all right. I know it takes time. I’m just glad we have a sample of April Johnson’s DNA on file. Thank you.” He hung up and looked at both Miriam and Hayes, cheeks puffed out with a sigh. “They’re running tests now. Said it could take up to twenty-four hours.”
Hayes crossed his arms. “No surprise there. Have Natalie’s parents been notified?”
“I called them at Browning’s house,” Shelton said. “Her mother nearly passed out. I can’t imagine what they’re going through.”
“I’m just glad we found her in time,” Hayes said. His eyes moved toward Miriam as he corrected himself. “Well, we’re glad you found her, Lieutenant.”
“No one can know,” she said adamantly. “At least anyone outside the investigation.”
“Not a problem,” Hayes said.
The two detectives then stood up, pushing their chairs outward.
Miriam held her hand out, waiting. “Phone, please?”
“Oh yes, of course,” Shelton said, reaching back into his coat pocket. He handed Miriam the phone just as a knock came at the door. Hayes walked over and opened it, revealing Corporal Taylor, his widened eyes indicating that he had something important to say.
“How can we help you, Corporal?” Hayes asked.
“Yes, Detective Hayes. We have a visitor. Says he was called to the station.”
Shelton approached the door, suspicious. “Who is it?”
“Walter Browning’s doctor,” Taylor said. “At least he claims to be.”
Shelton and Hayes exchanged curious looks.
“His doctor?” Hayes said.
“Something like that,” the corporal said. “Do you want to speak with him?”
Miriam stood up. “The therapist. His card was in Browning’s wallet. I didn’t know if he was actually a patient or not.”
“He’s waiting in the lobby,” Taylor said, stepping aside.
The prospect of having someone there who knew Walter Browning excited her. The detectives walked out of the office as Miriam followed. Things weren’t slowing down and the call home would have to wait.
Outside the room, the station was still abuzz with activity. Miriam noticed a mounted television in the corner with a news alert that said “Natalie Forester Found” in big bold letters on the screen. The word was out. Miriam approached the old-fashioned front counter where a man stood, turned around with hands in his pocket and reading the station bulletin board.
Corporal Taylor signaled toward the man. “That’s him.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Detective Hayes bellowed out.
Interest in their visitor was mutually heightened. He stood with his back to them, wearing a navy blue suit with black dress shoes. He had a full head of trimmed gray hair, and as he turned around, he exposed a t
hin and clean-shaven face, big blue eyes, and glasses that reflected the light from above.
With a wave, he immediately approached the counter and extended his hand. Hayes introduced himself and Detective Shelton. Miriam stood cautiously behind the men, not saying anything yet. The man didn’t seem to notice her, which was how she wanted it.
“My name is Dr. Trudeau,” he said with a smooth, velvety voice. “I was contacted earlier about Mr. Browning, my patient.”
“You are… or you were Mr. Browning’s doctor?” Hayes asked.
The man laughed, eyes upward, and then clasped his hands together. “Well, yes. But more specifically, I’m his therapist. Mr. Browning came to me two years ago, through court-mandated therapy.”
“What was his crime?” Shelton asked with his pocket notepad out and prepared to take notes.
“I don’t recall entirely,” the therapist said. “He got into a fight.”
Miriam then stepped forward without formally introducing herself. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice, Doctor.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been asked here. You might say I’m called upon as a criminal psychiatrist from time to time.”
Dr. Trudeau looked beyond the detectives and curiously gazed at Miriam. Hayes then turned to introduce her. “This is Lieutenant Sandoval with the Phoenix Police Department. She’s acting as an advisor for this investigation.”
The doctor studied her for a moment and then scratched his chin. “You look strangely familiar.”
Miriam looked downward with clear reservations. “Yes, my name has been mentioned a few times in this case.”
His eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, yes. You solved the Snatcher case all that time ago. Great work.”
Trudeau noticed Miriam’s apprehension and mimicked zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that we talked.”
“We’d like to ask you some questions about Mr. Browning if we could,” Miriam said.
Trudeau grabbed a briefcase on the table and looked prepared to enter the station. “I’m willing to discuss whatever I can within the confines of the law.”
