by Alexa Grace
"Get up!" he shouted, as he jerked her to her feet and pushed her toward the cage. "I had so many plans for you tonight, my slave," he said with disappointment and a chilling smile. "But they'll have to wait. But then, we have time. Don't we? It's not like you're going anywhere."
Alison crawled to the far end of the cage and curled into a ball. He pulled a couple of quilts from a box and tossed one into her cage, and the other into the cage next to hers. On the last step of the stairway, he picked up two plastic sandwich boxes and bottles of water, one of which he set at the front of her cage, locked her in, and then moved to the next. Finally, he slammed the girl’s cage door closed, secured the heavy padlock, and looked around the room as if he feared he was forgetting something. Finally satisfied, he headed back up the stairs, closing the door behind him.
The second he was gone, Alison pulled the duct tape from her mouth, took a deep, cleansing breath, and turned to the girl in the cage next to her. "Are you okay?"
Two or three seconds of silence passed and Alison repeated her question. "Are you okay?"
The girl crawled closer to Alison. She was a pretty African-American girl with dark hair and wide eyes the color of chocolate. She might be Alison's age. Finally, she whispered, "Yes, but please talk very quietly. If they hear us, they will put the duct tape back on our mouths and wrists, and beat us."
"They?"
"Yes, there are two of them, always wearing a ski mask to cover their faces. A man and a woman."
Alison shuddered. There were two of them. Where was the woman, and what role did she play? Was the woman as cruel as the man? She wondered why such evil existed.
"What's your name?"
"Jasmine Norris," the girl quietly replied.
"My name is Alison Brown. How long have you been here, Jasmine?"
"Seven days, counting today," Jasmine said with a sigh, her eyes brimming with tears. "Do you think anyone is looking for us?"
There was such sadness in her eyes that Alison had to look away. Jasmine was losing hope, and hope was all they had. "Yes, I'm sure our families have reported us missing, and the police are searching for us. They will find us, Jasmine. We have to believe that."
"You should know something, Alison."
"What's that?"
"He'll rape you while he films it, just like he did me. I lost my virginity to a monster."
<><><>
Brody returned to the Honeymoon Cottage and carried plastic containers filled with seasoned steaks, vegetables, and salads to the outside living area he and his brothers had built at the side of the house. What was once a cement slab patio was now an outdoor covered space filled with heavy wood furniture and soft cushions, a stone fireplace, and a wrought-iron dining table and chairs. He set the food down on the kitchen counter, washed his hands in the sink, and then fired up the huge stainless steel grill.
With his hands in his pockets, Brody took a deep breath. This was the first evening in months when he was not at work. The twelve-to sixteen-hour days were wearing on him, but what choice did he have until he caught the monster? He was becoming one of those cops who had no life outside the job. He should have headed to the office instead of home, but he needed to clear his head. Hearing the side door open, he turned to see Carly standing in the doorframe. Her thick, black hair, still damp from her shower, hung in long graceful curves over her shoulders, framing her face like a pool of glossy silk. Wearing a red V-neck sweater with tight jeans tucked into boots, she was beautiful with curves in all the right places. Gone was the buttoned-up, conservatively dressed woman hiding her sexuality who met him at the restaurant the previous night.
Carly smiled at him, and a blast of lust hit him as hard as a freight train. He froze, barely remembering his own name, as the blood rushed from his head to the pounding pulse in his crotch.
"Wow, this outside room is amazing. I wish I had something like this at my house in Florida," she said as she skimmed her hand across a chair cushion before she sat down. "What's for dinner?"
Brody cleared his throat to gain his composure. "Thanks to Cam, we've got steaks and vegetables to grill. Mrs. E., our housekeeper, made a couple of salads and one of her chocolate cheesecakes for dessert."
He threw a couple of steaks on the grill and sat near her. She smelled like fresh lilacs and honey, and the scent had the potential of driving him insane.
"I love this house," Carly declared. "I love it so much you may have to evict me once this job is done."
At that moment, the last thing on Brody's mind was to evict her. He wanted to crush his mouth to hers, and carry her upstairs. He wanted to bury himself inside her as deeply as he could, and not come out until he'd gotten his fill.
Brody's cell phone went off. He clenched his jaw and tore himself away from thoughts and sensations he shouldn't be having toward consultant Carly Stone.
"Sheriff Chase," he answered.
"Brody, this is Cam. I need to talk to you and Ms. Stone about the case. Can I come over?"
"Yeah, sure. Have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
"Well, bring another steak from the fridge and come to the cottage. We can talk at dinner."
He turned to Carly. "Cam is going to join us. He wants to talk about the case. Hope that's okay." That was just like his middle brother to save the day. He had a much better chance of keeping his mind off Carly's sexy body if his brother joined them with all the questions he tended to ask.
"That's fine. By the way, do you have the file with you? I'd like to look at your crime scene photos and evidence later."
"Not tonight, Carly," he responded. "After dinner, you should rest. Tomorrow promises to be as exhausting as today was."
Cameron arrived a short time later, put his steak on the grill, and joined Carly and Brody.
"I didn't get a chance earlier to welcome you to Shawnee County, Ms. Stone."
"Thank you, and please call me Carly," she replied. "And Cameron, I apologize for the way I called you out in front of everyone at the crime site.”
"No problem. You have to understand that we've never had a case of this magnitude in our county. This is a place where people don't lock their doors at night." He paused for a second, watching Brody at the grill. "But I'm not offering an excuse. I should have waited for the forensic anthropologist to arrive to instruct the searchers before I sent them out."
"Still, I'm sorry. My brother says I'm sometimes too blunt. He just may be right about that."
"Let's just move on, Carly. You can't be thin-skinned and work in the jobs we do," said Cameron. "I hope you don't mind if we talk about the case a little."
"No, not at all."
He turned to his brother. "The media is camped like vultures outside the sheriff's office. The evening news was filled with their anchor's best bets on what's going on. Thanks to their damn helicopter, they know we found remains, as well as shallow graves."
"I figured," said Brody.
"I ran into our favorite Commission President, Bradley Lucas," Cameron said with not a little sarcasm. “He's pissed he wasn't contacted when the shallow graves were discovered."
"God, I hate politics. I'll talk to him tomorrow. He'll probably want me to do a press conference." Brody said as he headed for the grill to turn the steaks over. He added some chopped vegetables to the grill, and placed the salads and dessert in the refrigerator to stay chilled.
"Sounds good. I was able to arrange schedules so the same group of trained deputies can search the woods tomorrow. CSI will be back working the sieves for additional bones or fragments, while Bryan and Dr. Harris identify the bodies," Cameron reported, then added, "I got a search warrant from Judge Nancy Carlson in case Wally Johnson has second thoughts about us digging up his property."
"Good idea. His wife called my cell twice this afternoon asking when we'd be finished."
While Brody went to his car for a Coleman cooler filled with drinks, Cameron and Carly went to the kitchen. Cameron pulled dinner plates out of a cabinet and silverw
are out of a drawer. Handing the silverware to Carly, they began setting the table as they talked. Carly lit the candle inside a lantern in the center of the table, as Cameron set out glasses.
Cameron asked Carly, "I assigned surveillance for the night in case the killer returns to his dump site. Do you think he will?"
"There's a chance he will. If he's anything like Bundy or Ridgeway, he's probably already visited the bodies several times already. It helps them relive the murder and it excites them," Carly answered. "However, he's smart. If he's heard the graves were discovered through the media, he might not."
"Do you really think this asshole is smart?"
"Definitely. Your killer has average to above-average intelligence. He is persuasive enough to lure his victims here, use and kill them, and bury them," Carly responded, as her mind raced. "He's an organized killer. That's evident in the way he meticulously buries his victims to cover up his crimes. It was pure chance the skull was found. It was probably unearthed by a dog or coyote. The shallow graves were dug deep enough so that the remains wouldn't be found for months or years."
Brody returned with the ice chest and set it down. "Carly, what do you want to drink? I've got sodas, beer, and wine coolers."
"A wine cooler sounds incredible," said Carly, as she accepted an icy bottle from him. She watched as he handed a beer to Cameron. She set her bottle on the table and then went to the refrigerator where she saw Brody place the salads earlier. There was a macaroni and potato salad that looked delicious. She set them on the table.
Brody placed a grilled steak on each of their plates, along with some grilled vegetables. Holding Carly's chair as she sat down, he ignored Cameron's grin and unspoken promise to tease him later about his new consultant.
Famished, they dug in, the men shoveling food into their mouths.
"This is the best steak I've had in forever," exclaimed Carly as she forked another chunk from her plate. "The potato salad is to die for."
Brody smiled. "I'll tell Mrs. E. you liked it."
"I'm not sure I understand what you're going to do, Carly. How are you going to help us?" asked Cameron.
"I'm going to give you an analysis of your killer so you can narrow the suspect pool and prioritize your search. Once you have a suspect, I'll give you strategies for interviewing him."
"I guess it's too much to ask for you to just give us his name," Cameron teased.
"Sorry. With serial killers, we usually don't know the unsub's identity until he is captured. But I can certainly help you narrow down your suspects so you're not looking into every sicko in your county," offered Carly. "I want to run something past you two that bothers me."
"What is it?" asked Brody.
"I've already told you that I think your killer is organized. He went to a lot of trouble to hide his victims in those shallow graves. What disturbs me is why would this same killer set a car on fire with two of his victims inside in the middle of a farmer's field? It doesn't compute."
"I think he might have a partner."
"It's terrifying to think you might have two monsters at work here, but I agree."
"What do you need from us to get your analysis started?" Brody wanted to know.
"I'll need photographs of the crime scene, the coroner's report for each body, a map of each victim's activities prior to death, your investigative notes, and backgrounds for each of the victims, as well as photographs. I'll need the same for the victims we unearthed today."
"I can get you most of that tomorrow," offered Cameron.
"Cam, I forgot to ask you about that missing girl from Indy," said Brody. "Fill Carly in on the details."
"A missing person report was filed yesterday in Indianapolis. Her name is Alison Brown. She's a thirteen-year-old, and she's a runaway who's been missing for a couple of days now. She was last seen at her home in Indianapolis."
Carly frowned and asked, "So you're thinking she's the same age as your victims and may have been targeted by our killer? If so, I agree and would like to talk to her parents with you."
<><><>
Early the next morning, Brody was behind closed doors with Commission President, Bradley Lucas, for at least sixty minutes, while Carly sifted through the files of victims Amanda Jenkins and Sophia Bradford. One entire wall of the conference room where she worked was a whiteboard, so she taped a photo of both girls on the board and began reviewing every element in each victim's file. She wanted to know each victim as well as she possibly could, and made plans to call their families with questions.
Carly compared the two victims, looking at their physical traits, age, school experiences, home life and relationships, habits, demographics, medical history, sexual history, and last activities before their disappearances. She knew from experience that learning about his victims would reveal a lot about the serial killer's preferences, getting them that much closer to stopping him.
Picking up a marker, Carly used it to write notes, as well as her questions, on the whiteboard. Each victim was thirteen-years-old, and both were having problems at school: a victim of bullying, or distancing herself from friends. Neither had a boyfriend. Did the girls' lack of friends and loneliness make them an online target?
Each had recently experienced a major life experience. For Amanda, it was the sudden death of both her parents, and moving in with her grandmother. Sophia was adjusting to her parents' divorce. Neither of the girls had a strong support system at home or at school. Did the lack of a support system make them more likely to visit sites where they could meet and communicate with online friends? Did this make them more susceptible to kind words and attention from a predator?
Both girls spent a lot of time online, and each was careful to take her laptop and cell phone with her. Were the girls advised by the killer to take these items with them to delay the police investigation?
More questions occurred to Carly. Sophia was able to take her sister's car to meet the killer. Amanda didn't have access to a vehicle, so how did she get to Shawnee County? Public transportation? She made a mental note to ask Brody and Cameron.
"Looks like you're making some progress," said Brody as he leaned against the door frame. Moving closer, he scanned the information on the whiteboard. "So what are your thoughts, consultant?"
"Obviously, these two victims are the only two I can use to make assumptions until the remains of the other bodies are identified," Carly began.
"Bryan says it make take weeks."
Carly nodded and continued, "Judging from your identified victims, our killer is targeting lonely preteens, who are having trouble either at home or at school or both. Both girls became secretive about who they were communicating with online."
"So what does that say about our killer?"
"I believe our killer is an online predator who knows exactly what to say to young girls to gain their trust, and he maintains the online relationship until he gets them to the point where they will agree to meet him in person. He's patient enough to develop the relationships and savvy enough to move them offline as soon as he can."
Brody ran his fingers through his hair, and said, "I can't believe these girls are naive enough to believe a stranger."
"Keep in mind, many teens and preteens spend hours online chatting with friends. These friendships can easily turn into what they think are ‘relationships.’ The girls get caught up in the predator's web when they start believing their online buddy is their boyfriend."
"I'm willing to bet Amanda and Sophie had never had a boyfriend before."
"Exactly," Carly agreed. "That's what our predator is looking for. The loneliness makes the girls easier to seduce, and to believe his lies."
"Sick bastard. I'd like to rip his head off," Brody angrily remarked, his clenched fists in his pockets.
"I think a lengthy prison sentence will make him suffer more. Jailed sexual predators of young girls are not popular with the other prisoners."
Deputy Gail Sawyer entered the conference room with a message for Brod
y. "Sir, your press conference is scheduled for eleven. That gives you sixty minutes to prepare."
"Thanks, Deputy," Brody said, turning to Carly.
"Have I told you that press conferences are not on the list of my favorite tasks?"
"I wouldn't miss it," said Carly.
Deputy Sawyer interrupted, "Oh, you're going to want to miss this one. You've got some guests waiting for you in the lobby."
<><><>
Chapter Five
Carly entered the lobby and decided that her second day in Shawnee County was going to be a good one. Standing in the middle of the lobby was her brother, Blake. In a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest was her cooing, four-month-old niece, Mylee. Blake Stone was six feet five inches tall and two hundred and thirty pounds of hard muscle, which made the baby girl look even tinier than she was.
Next to him, his wife, Jennifer, held the small hand of her five-year-old son, Shawn, who wore a green hoodie, jeans and a multicolored backpack.
He shyly pressed closer to his mother until Carly bent down and opened her arms to him. In an instant, Shawn flew across the room, into her arms, and said, "Good to see you, Aunt Carly."
Picking Shawn up and planting a big kiss on his cheek, Carly headed for her brother and sister-in-law and said, "This is the best surprise ever."
Blake said, "This is Shawn's spring break, and we wanted to spend some time with you before you got buried in your case. Is there a good place to have lunch around here?"
"Yes. Let's go to Mollie's Cafe. It's a short walk from here," she responded as Shawn wiggled free to stand on his own. "But before we go, there is one thing I have to do."
