A small podium had been set up at the bottom of the precinct steps.
Like a sudden swarm of avid wasps, the cameras zoomed and whirled in unison as Hank stepped out of the precinct doors, and headed down the steps.
Amelia was by his side, and she held his arm as they approached the podium.
Jake and Annie stood behind with the Chief of Police. A couple of uniforms stood at either end, glaring at the crowd, as if daring them to cross the invisible line of demarcation.
Lisa stepped in a bit too close, but was quickly sent back a step or two, by a frown and a furious wave, from one of the cops.
Hank stepped to the microphone and cleared his throat. The swarm hushed, and all eyes were front and center.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for coming.”
Hank looked down briefly as if consulting his notes.
“My name is Detective Corning and I’m the lead investigator in this case. As this in an ongoing investigation, I’ll need to keep this brief.”
He cleared his throat again.
“As you know, this city has been the victim of three murders in the last two weeks. All three appear to be the work of one perpetrator. Certain items in evidence point to that. I can’t go into it specifically right now.
“Because these malicious acts seem to be the acts of a possible serial killer, the feds have been called in. We will be working closely with them in this matter.”
Hank glanced at the Chief and continued, “The Chief of Police is considering the safety of the people of Richmond Hill to be of primary concern, and everything will be done to ensure that.”
Hank consulted his notes again.
“We are expecting an arrest at any time, and this barbarous individual will be caught and will face the full extent of our judicial system.
“Now as you probably know, sixteen-year-old Jenny James has been missing for almost two weeks now. It is known she was last seen with Chad Bronson, the first victim.
“We believe Jenny has not come to any harm at this point, and her mother would like to say a few words to her abductor.”
He glanced at Amelia, who stepped forward.
The crowd seemed to slide in a few inches simultaneously. She had their attention.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, before taking a deep breath, and continuing, “Please, if you have my daughter, or you know where she is, then I am begging you to contact the police, or just let her go.”
Her voice broke and she stopped a moment, and then continued, “Please, she’s all I have left.”
She dropped her head to hide her tears. Hank placed his arm around her shoulder, and she stepped back.
“Thank you for coming. I have no further comments, and there will be no questions.” He turned away.
There was a sudden roar. The crowd was disappointed. Their questions had been cued up and waiting, and they all spoke at once.
Hank disregarded them. Lisa took his arm and they headed up the steps. Jake and Annie followed them into the building.
The crowd of reporters slowly dispersed, packed up their equipment, and the once humming street soon became just another street.
Chapter 35
Sunday, August 14th, 5:00 PM
JENNY WAS LYING on her back, staring at the metal roof of the barn, far above her head, when the door creaked open and Jeremy stepped in.
She turned her head and watched him as he drew closer. He sat down on the floor a few feet away, and leaned back with his arms supporting himself. He just stared.
She turned her head back and studied the roof again.
“I just came from town,” he said.
She ignored him.
“I called your mother,” he said.
She sat up suddenly and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“I told her you’re ok.”
Her eyes grew larger. She didn’t know what to say.
He spoke again. “I told her not to worry about you. You’re in safe hands.”
“Is... is she all right?”
“I guess so. I hung up right away. I know they can trace calls, so I had to hang up. I called from a phone booth, you see. And I wore gloves, too. Have to be careful, you know.”
Jenny dropped onto her back again and closed her eyes. She had been hoping he would eventually let her go. Ever since that day he had beat her, he had been fairly civil to her.
She turned her head and looked back at him. “If you aren’t going to hurt me, then why can’t you just let me go?”
“You know why,” he scolded.
“Please?”
“Can’t do it.”
He was quiet for a while, and then said in a teasing voice, “I have a surprise for you.”
She was silent.
“Don’t you want to know what it is?”
She nodded.
“I’ve fixed up your room for you.”
She stared at him. She thought about her room at home. Her nice frilly curtains. Pretty wallpaper. Stuffed teddy bears everywhere. Her soft pillow, the moon through her window at night, and her warm cuddly bed. She began to cry quietly.
He watched her for a while, and then stood up and pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. He selected one, approached her, and unlocked the collar from around her neck. He let it fall to the floor.
She rubbed her neck with her hand. It felt good to finally be free of that awful leather dog collar. She considered running as fast as she could. Maybe make it through the door, and then she was sure she could outrun him. She glanced at the door, but he seemed to sense her thoughts, and grabbed her arm to block her escape.
His hold was gentle, but firm, as he tugged at her arm. “Come on,” he said.
As he kept his grip on her wrist, she followed him obediently across the rough straw-covered floor, to the doorway. He urged her gently outside.
She blinked and squinted, and then covered her eyes with her free hand as the bright sunlight hit her. He paused a moment, as if allowing her to become accustomed to the glare.
In a moment, she was fine. She dropped her hand and looked around her. She hadn’t been outside for a long time, and missed the fresh air. She took a deep breath.
She walked slowly as he tugged at her arm, leading her down the gravel driveway, from the barn, heading toward the house.
She kept one eye on the ground around her, hoping to see a weapon, any weapon she might be able to use, a rock, or a stick, anything. She saw nothing.
He led her up the steps of the house and inside. Pushing her ahead of him now, he kept the hold on her arm and they silently climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom.
It was almost a welcome sight. Certainly better than being chained up in the barn, but it also meant he seemed determined to never let her go.
The wall where she had escaped had been repaired. The bed was put back together, and the room was clean and organized. A bouquet of flowers had been placed on the stand beside the bed. There was a CD player on the stand as well, with a stack of CDs beside it.
Her small measure of joy turned to despair when she saw the chain fastened to the ring on the floor.
He dropped her arm and gave her a little push. “Go and sit on the bed,” he ordered.
She sat obediently on the edge of the bed, without saying a word.
He kept one eye on her as he picked up the short piece of chain. There was a padlock hanging from it. He bent down and wrapped the chain around her ankle, and then hooked the lock through the links and snapped it shut. He tested it to make sure it couldn’t slip from her foot. He seemed satisfied.
He picked up the longer chain. It was fastened to the ring at one end, and he secured the free end to the chain on her ankle with a second lock.
He stood up and dropped the keys into his pocket and stood back.
“Stand up,” he said.
She stood up.
“Now, walk around, and make sure you have enough room to move.”
She walked tow
ard the window. She could just barely reach it, but she could at least see outside. She moved to the other side of the room, toward the door. Same thing, with plenty of room to move about her prison.
“I’m sorry I still have to keep a chain on you,” he said softly, “but I can’t let you try to escape again.”
She looked at him and nodded slightly, and then sat back on the bed and dropped her head.
“I’ll be back up soon with your dinner,” he said, as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
She heard the rattle of the bolt as he locked it securely.
She was no longer as afraid of her captor as she had once been, but still, she wanted to go home, and away from this awful place.
Chapter 36
Sunday, August 14th, 5:00 PM
DETECTIVE HANK CORNING was slouched in the rusty chair behind his timeworn desk in the precinct. His hands were clasped as though praying; his fingertips touched his nose, his eyes closed. But he wasn’t praying. He was thinking. Contemplating his next course of action. Trying to put the pieces together to form something cohesive.
He dropped his hands, opened his eyes, and reached to the clip on his belt to retrieve his ringing cell phone.
“Hank Corning here.”
“Oh, Hank. It’s Amelia.”
He sat up straight, and smiled. “Hi Amelia.”
“Hank, I just received a curious phone call.” She was talking fast, excited. “A man called, and he has Jenny.”
“Slow down Amelia. Take a breath and tell me everything.”
Amelia took a deep breath. “I received a call at the house just a few minutes ago. The man said he had Jenny and she was all right, and in good hands.”
Hank was standing now, pacing. “Did he say where she was?”
“No, he just said she was ok and not to worry.”
“Did the voice sound familiar at all?”
“No, not at all. I’m pretty sure it was a man though. He tried to cover his voice by talking in a low tone.”
“Is that all he said?”
“Yes, I asked him where she was, but he just hung up. So, I called star 69 several times and finally got an answer. They said it was a phone booth in the plaza down on Bentley Road.”
“Hold on Amelia.”
There was silence, and then she heard him say, “Jackson, there’s a phone booth in the plaza on Bentley Road. Get a fingerprint guy down there right away.” He spoke into the phone, “Amelia, if he touched anything in that booth, we’ll get him.”
“Oh Hank, I don’t know what to make of this. I’m happy, but still afraid at the same time.”
“It’s not bad news, Amelia. That’s for sure. It’s actually good news.”
“There’s only one thing that bothers me, Hank.”
“What’s that?”
“What if it wasn’t really him? Maybe it was just a prank.”
Hank sighed. “Yeah, there is that possibility, however, it seems slim. Keep your hopes up.”
Silence for a minute.
“Hank?”
“Yes?”
“I need you.”
Hank didn’t know what to say, so he said, “Oh... I uh... I need you too, but uh...”
“Yes?”
“I need to get on top of this now. Hopefully, the fingerprinter will have something positive for me.”
“Ok Hank, let me know, please. I truly appreciate your support. It has helped me a lot.”
They said goodbye, and he jabbed at the ‘Hang Up’ button.
He thought maybe he screwed that up a bit.
Monday, August 15th, 8:35 AM
ANNIE HAD KEPT extensive notes on whatever ideas and thoughts came to her regarding Jenny, the murders, and anything at all that seemed related.
She was going over them now, re-reading them, hoping for something to pop out at her from the hand-written pages.
Nothing did.
Jake walked into the office and sat down in the guest chair. “Anything come to you?” he asked.
She leaned back and shook her head. “Nope.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I didn’t sleep that well last night as you know. I’m sure I woke you up a few times. After Hank called and told us about Amelia’s phone call, it just weighed on my mind all night.”
“That’s what I love about you. You care so much.”
She smiled, and then asked, “Did you come up with anything?”
“I keep notes too, you know.” He tapped his forehead. “But mine are all up here, and even my brilliantly organized mental notes led me nowhere.”
She laughed, and then said, “I called Hank a few minutes ago. They only found a single set of fresh prints in the phone booth. Hank was hoping to find the killer’s prints, but assumed the ones they did find, belonged to the guy who answered the phone when Amelia called back. They’ll follow up on them anyway, just in case.”
“So, another dead end.”
“Yes, it seems to be.”
“I’m off to school,” Matty called from the office doorway.
Jake looked over his shoulder. “I’m leaving right now. I can give you a lift to school if you want.”
“Dad, it’s only two blocks.”
“Well, be careful.”
“Always. Bye Mom. Bye Dad.” He disappeared, and the front door slammed a few seconds later.
“Well,” Jake said, “I’m going to the high school right away. Another long shot, but we’ve got to try everything.” He stood up. “I should be back before noon.”
“I should be here when you get back,” Annie said. “I have a few things to do here.” She sat forward and looked at her desktop. “A few bills to pay, and some invoicing to do.”
Jake stood up, leaned over the desk and gave her a quick kiss. “See you soon,” he said.
Chapter 37
Monday, August 15th, 9:05 AM
JAKE WHIPPED into the parking lot at Richmond Hill High School, and pulled into the visitor’s slot.
He climbed from his vehicle and looked up at the building. It was well over a hundred years old, with two stories of ancient and faded brick that had seen better days. An L wing had been tacked on to the far side since he had last been here. That was over twenty years ago. It looked much smaller now, even with the new section.
He made his way up the cracking concrete walkway, climbed four steps, and pulled open one of the double doors at the side entrance.
A wave of nostalgia overtook him as he stepped inside. The familiar cream-colored paint throughout, the faded hard tiled floors, and the dark walnut trim around the doors and banisters.
He moved into the long and deserted hallway. Almost deserted. One student at the far end was hustling away with a stack of books under his arm, bent forward as if leaning into the wind, probably late for class.
His footsteps echoed off the floor and bare walls, and he took a left turn, strolling through the old wing of the building.
It’s funny how everything was smaller now. The corridors weren’t as wide as he had remembered. He could almost reach up and touch the ceiling, and the once khaki colored lockers had turned to a dismal brown.
Across the hall, three or four schoolroom doorways were spaced uniformly apart. He stepped to the nearest one and peeked in the small window. A teacher was frantically waving his arms as he talked, probably trying to drum some important point into the heads of distracted students.
He stepped back quickly. He didn’t want to be caught snooping.
He took another left into the next corridor and stood in front of locker #266. That was his, many years ago. He pensively touched the padlock, and then tapped on the metal door. The sound echoed lightly down the hallway. He looked cautiously around as the echo faded, almost expecting to be caught out of class, and sent to the principal’s office.
He laughed out loud, and then turned and continued down the hallway to the main office.
The main office was gone.
He looked around for a
moment. Probably moved to the new wing.
He headed in what seemed to be the right direction, and after making a couple of wrong turns, the hallway seamlessly entered the new section. He saw the offices, dead ahead.
The principal’s office was right in front of him. He glanced at the metal plate fastened to the door. Mr. Elertson. He headed toward the reception area, situated behind a large see-through wall. He eased open the glass door and stepped inside, where he was greeted by a woman who looked old enough to have been his first grade teacher.
She smiled cheerfully at him, and spoke in a sing-song voice. “May I help you?”
He smiled back. “My name is Jake Lincoln. I was hoping I could see Mr. Elertson for a minute?”
“Well, certainly dearie. May I ask what it’s regarding?”
“Uh, it’s about a security matter.”
The smile hadn’t left her face. “Just one second,” she sang, and then hurried toward the principal’s office.
As he waited, he looked around. Everything seemed to be running in high gear. People, mostly women, were bustling about. Computer keys clicked, files drawers slammed, and the constant buzz of conversation and consultation filled the room.
The door to the principal’s office opened, and a student came out slowly, head down, probably reprimanded for something or other.
The receptionist poked her head in for a few seconds, and then hurried back and flashed her constant smile at Jake. “Mr. Elertson can see you now.”
Jake walked cautiously into the office. Not the same room he had visited quite a few times in his student days, but still, going to the principal’s office always seemed to have a negative feeling to it.
“Hello, Mr. Elertson,” he said. “I’m Jake Lincoln.” He offered his hand.
Elertson stood up and shook it. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the padded chair in front of his well-used desk.
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